


Silver Lines

by thetubelightclicks



Series: Ballum Week 2020 [2]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, BAMF!Ben, Ballum Week 2020 (EastEnders), Bottom Ben Mitchell, Callum's Son, Divorce, Domestic Violence, Grown Up Lexi, Hurt Callum "Halfway" Highway, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Smoking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetubelightclicks/pseuds/thetubelightclicks
Summary: Whitney goes through with the Wedding, The hold up at the Vic never happens. A decade on, Officer Callum's on a small op' to wrap up an informant who happens to end up being Ben. A different Ben than the one he remembers leaving behind in Walford those years back. A Ben who needs him in ways Ben would never ask for.... or is it the other way around.For Ballum Week 2020 - Day 2 - The Affair that Never was.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: Ballum Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846141
Comments: 22
Kudos: 49





	1. Stare Through My Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy my version of "The affair that never was". Narrative switches between the boys in the breaks.

He’d parked his car a solid block across. His superiors knowing his whereabouts just in case something were to go wrong was standard procedure, but he’d sent a location of the car just in case as well. It had been a while since work required him to dress casually, he relished in the comfort of it, and the comfortable shoes too. He'd managed to slip into something grey and inconspicuous today, a 'tbt' as the kids would call it. He’d even worn a wool beanie he'd found that made Whitney shudder with the memory of the last time she'd seen him in it this morning.   
  
He’d resuscitated ‘Halfway’ for one final throwback, hopefully. He knew how to play the part a little too well still.

A rush of emotions and memories of The Vic, Mick and the life he’d left behind years back made him smile dryly. Just as he was passing a salon the 80s seemed to forget, he checked himself one last time in a mirror that was facing the road. Gone was his sharp hair today, hidden under the beanie. He had less of a -what was it Shirley was fond of calling him- Yes, he seemed less of a _‘dolt’_ and more of a mine worker now. He scratched at his stubble now visibly hiding his boyish features.

 _‘Should do the trick ain’t it’_ he thought to himself. Setting himself to walking the rest of his way briskly to the bar.

He'd turned a corner and was through the door; It was a ramshackle pub at best. It had clearly given up years ago at the rate the barman looked no different to its regular customers. And regular customers there were even this fine morning.

He scanned the room looking for what he was told was a hard-to-miss target. He had to be the youngest person there. An informant that had outlived his purpose. Just a couple of elderly broads, some battered seamen and... Someone who looked around his age almost diagonally across from him, closer to the end of the bar appeared. He seemed to be swimming in an insulated coat. Hair brown but thinning. He had one hand on a bottle almost protectively and his head facing away from the door as he rested his head on the probably freezing cold counter.

“Heyya mate, you Mitch?” Callum said just so the two of them could hear.

“What’s it to you” said… a familiar voice, hand slipping off the bottle but quickly making a grab again.  
  
It felt too good to be true. A nervous panic set in. _‘Please don’t be..’_ He never really turned around but, raised his head. Callum’s heart lurched in a way it hadn’t in years; could that Mitch have been….

“Ben…” he said slowly placing his hands on his shoulder. Ben turned around, probably not intending to spin in his seat as much as he did and lean back against the bar. He was barely conscious by the looks of things. He knew this face. It used to be less gaunt and battered. Callum couldn’t help but be a bit taken back by the whole sight of it. It really wasn’t Mitch, but a Mitchell; Interesting play on words. There were new scars above his right eye and a permanent cut to his lip.

“Well if it ain’t old Bills finest! What can I do for you officer Highway…” he said, laughing to himself, almost toppling off his seat. Callum rushed to quiet him down with a hand over his mouth. This was not necessarily something he wanted to promote in these parts especially today.

“Quieten down!” he hissed through his teeth even as Ben seemed to relish the attention. It was barely eleven in the morning and Ben smelled like he’d curl paint off the walls already. Ben licked his hand and giggled to himself as Callum retracted in disgust. He quickly wiped it off on his coat hoping he wasn’t glowing as red as he felt his face was.

“I can’t have you man-handling me like that anymore can I…” Ben pointed out, a finger almost in Callum’s nostril. “I have an important meeting today. An important meeting with…”

“Ashley Evans was it” Callum seemed to take the words right out of his mouth. Ben seemed taken aback by this.

“Hey! How do you know Ashley” Ben asked, with genuine concern that was almost comical.

“That’s because I am Ashley” he said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

\----------------------------------------

He’d managed to convince Ben to move to an empty booth out of an earshot of everyone there. Sure, there was work to be done, but it had been…. Years. Ben’s barely-there bottle of Jameson following him like its taped to his hand. He almost slid down the seat with the comfort it gave him.

He finally managed to get the bar-keeps attention and signaled for a coffee for the both of them. The man nodded and walked off through a door leaving the almost empty bar without a bartender.

“Let’s have a coffee and talk about Ashley, Ben” Callum said.

He sat up and barely wasted any time before he flopped onto the table between them with a louder thud than he surely anticipated. It was a miracle the bottle didn’t crack in the process either. Ben seemed barely alive, but he used the bottle somehow to steady his head up a bit between his hands and looked at Callum with one eye open.

He'd been called in a just this morning to fill in. It was supposed to be a simple, inconspicuous pick up and hold. The evidence was already stacked against Ben. Or Mitch.

God... it just occured to Callum that they probably hadn't connected his previous record to...whatever these current dealings were.

“Finally an excuse to see your old friend ain’t it. The square’s hero finally givin’ me some attention...” Ben slurred right throughout that entire line, bringing Callum back to reality. 

The thought of calling the whole operation off made more sense. The full takedown... was off the table. Maybe he could wrangle a deal, but that required the cooperation of Ben… it was a longshot even with a sober Ben.

“Heard you had a kid…” Ben shared, not a word out of place, almost sober but mostly to himself. Callum’s heart did something it hadn’t done in a while. Ben downed a 200ml of whiskey neat before tossing the bottle to the ailing green leather seat that curved around them.

“Must be nice. Livin’ a lie.” Ben said, before laughing hysterically, so loud, and so forcefully with glee. He could see one discolored tooth clearly chipped a bit.

“Keep it down Mitch!” said the bearded barkeep suddenly appearing by Callum and banging two cups of coffee on the table. Ben was clearly a regular here. Ben almost immediately put a hand over his mouth as if the action alone was enough to silence him. But like all brave men at the bottom of a bottle of Jameson that was drunk neat, Ben found the hand much more useful with the gurgling that followed as he rushed clumsily to the restrooms available nearby in the premises.

“Check please” Callum said losing all hope and heading in after him.

\---------------------------------------

He woke up comfortable. Clean. On a soft surface. Definitely not the cool tiled surface of the bar’s deplorable mens room. It was comfortably cozy too Ben thought, as his hands stroked the comfort of the bed he was on. And then came the massive headache. He regretted that bottle. He’d seen the bottle directly across him at the bar and willed it to stay on the shelf. But as he’d arrived a little to early for his new business deal, he’d considered one drink whilst he meddled with his phone. New contacts are all nervous business. Espeically when they were to get him a couple thousand pounds in cash.

Yes, the phone. Cannot lose that phone. Names numbers, contacts as well as damning evidence.

His memories were hazy at best. He’d have to piece this adventure together from the Dukes…something, bar. Opening his eyes a little he… was… looking for his phone a little more urgently on his person or close by when… his unfamiliar but modest surroundings came into full view.

 _“Well toto, you’re not in Kansas anymore”_ he thought to himself. And he was in pants that were definitely not his as well.

It wouldn’t be the first time he charmed his way onto a high-net worth mark, but this was probably going to be an interesting story for the gang. How the hell did he manage this half awake and fully pissed. Who would be daft enough to let him through their place. It was clearly towards twilight now and he needed to find his phone firstly.

Proving him stupid, right next to the bed he was sleeping on was a cabinet with his phone, a glass of water and what he assumed was aspirin.

 _‘What a considerate lay’_ he thought again.

He got off the single bed that felt very new, reaching for his phone switching it on. Thankfully, it had much of its battery left since it had been switched off. Somehow. He wondered if this could also not be Aspirin he held in his hands… but as his hangover reminded him he should probably find out first hand. The Mirror across the side of the bed gave him stock of what he looked like now. He rubbed the stubble that was coming in haphazardly even before his latest drunk adventure. He kind of enjoyed the mess. Made him ignorable in public when he needed to dissapear into a crowd.

He pulled his pants up from slipping off his bum. They were a little too big for him, but the tee seemed to fit alright. He liked the fit for a nightshirt. He was proud of where the t-shirt he was wearing cut off perfectly to show his fitter arms and chest. Well maybe slimmer was a better choice of words. He checked his face and tried to adjust the hair that had permanently settled in its current position due to his haphazard sleeping position. He tightened the drawstring of the sweatpants he was wearing, realizing he’d seen a similar one before... maybe Jay had the same. Someone clearly having only bigger clothes to spare. He wondered. Grey sweatpants are grey sweatpants. He didn’t want to think about it too much. He wondered if he should be checking for his actual clothes, but the spare room he was in clearly didn’t have them anywhere. He thought he’d check the wall cupboard with its fresh wood panelling, but there was only bed linen and random suitcases.

Which brought him back to the burning question of who’s clothes were these. He’d clearly been stripped (and showered?) by his best estimation somewhere during the day. It was a little unnerving, but he tried not to think too much about the nervous feeling that was creeping in. Was he taken advantage of? (By hopefully a hot wealthy man! He hoped!!) As if almost on cue, he heard someone walking down the corridor beyond this room and quietly open the door to the room he was in.

 _'Hard to forget that face...I've only tried for many years'_. Ben averted his gaze. It was a mixture of panic & realization of some of the vague details oh how he got here coming to his memory in a flash. Bens hand nervously going to rub his face.

“Feeling better?” Callum had asked, quite unsure.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Ben stood in-front of a fake fireplace in a living room filled with photos. Of trips, of precious moments, decked out in mismatched frames and odd ball décor. Very much Whit, very little Callum. The whole place was white walls, and a few floors up too. It had a nice view of a great neighborhood. Some sky scrapers poking out in the distance. He looked for snippets of Callum over the years they weren’t in touch, but they were all cookie cutter photos that could’ve been in the frame when they were brought from Ikea. Well, all except for a simple wooden frame that held a photo of Callum with a mini almost blonde version of him. And a photo of Callum with his army friends in uniform he’d seen before.

“Here’s the little rascal! What did you end up naming him?” Ben asked across the room, his voice breaking slightly from the strain.

“Timmy… Timothy Michael Halfway.. I mean Highway” Callum said, walking over with a Fanta. “Sorry… we’re out of lemony drinks” he added as he stood close by. He tried to put away the simple notion of how Callum remembered Ben liked a sprite or some lemonade after a throw up of this magnitude.

Callum had politely recounted the whole misadventure of how they’d ended up back at Callum’s modest family apartment. Ben had unceremoniously passed out with his head against a rather unsavory commode after spewing hell for a couple of minutes. He regretted his measly fry up before the bar. Callum made a joke about a drinking problem but his eyes showed more concern than humor before walking them to the kitchen area as he spoke.

Ben couldn’t look away from how comfortable he seemed in a ratty white tee and sweat shorts in black.

 _'_ _An attractive older man in sweat shorts and a tee’_ his brain corrected him. He never understood why Callum tried to hide that round arse and sexy legs in so much bagginess. He tried to snap back to the conversation as Callum turned around. Hopefully he wasn’t blushing or looking caught.

Callum continued the tale like they were mates recounting a wild night out. Callum had carried him across over his shoulder apparently and into his car. They were in no rush anyway. Ben had then made a mess of things in the car. Out the window thankfully the second time. Almost near their East-London apartment again and then finally passed out. Comically, just as he’d reached the apartment, Ben had gotten up and casually followed Callum until the shower. That’s when usually exhibitionist Ben went beet red as Callum did when having to recount dressing him forcibly. Ben offered to have it professionally cleaned and Callum shrugged and said the car had already been picked up by a service and would be on its way back by evening.

Ben couldn’t stop imagining how Callum managed to carry him over a shoulder like that. Sure he was tall, but to carry him like he was just a few kilos couldn’t have been easy. He vaguely recalled a fragment of looking up and seeing Callum’s face. That felt like Callum carrying him in his arms, rather than over his shoulder. But maybe he was wrong about it.

“I suppose a thank you will not suffice…” Ben grinned nervously. If Callum’s pained laugh was a sign, Ben almost wished he could disappear with a pop as Callum gave him a withering look he’d not experienced before. He opened his mouth and Ben expected a legendary telling off… But it never came.

“What’s going on Ben” Callum asked. His eyes brighter than they should be, focused solely on him. “You were drunk before noon and it weren’t on bloody margaritas…” he hesitated for a moment. “I was there to meet Mitch. A mitch who’d been working with different contacts for all kinds of…” Callum leaned forward in his seat “…supplies”. An older, wiser Callum who’d protected him and cared for him sat before him now. Lines at his eyes, Hair less glowing in the evening, chin still prominent. Ben felt the need to explain and he… started to… and realized he didn’t need to.

“Yeah supplies Callum. Oh sorry, I mean Ashley.” Ben couldn’t help the hint of sarcasm he fed into that line.

There was a silent battle that occured as they locked eyes. An entire arguement that included the many years apart and explanations that were long overdue. But Callum seemed... to steel himself.

“Fine. I needed supplies. For an operation. And an introduction.” he said.

“It’ll be cash only. And I decide when.” Ben answered. Standard order.

No matter how much his brain begged for answers. Callum wasn’t someone who he wanted to linger on.

“I’ll text you the list. And the contact info” Callum said. And he tried to ask again about Ben.

“And if that is all. Let me call a cab and get out of your generous hair” Ben couldn’t help add, as he was already adding his destination to the app and getting up.

“Ben…” Callum had grabbed his arm. Suddenly taking stock of the man towering over him in sweat shorts and a tee. His thumb stroked his hand and it felt like everything he’d ever wanted all these years as he drank a bottle a day. It really was. He'd wished to be looking into these eyes, moving closer as he was right now, his breath almost warm on his face.

But that was years ago when Callum decided on Whitney and their beautiful son. Ben shook himself free.

\-----------------------------------

Ben had left his place no more than ten minutes ago, barefoot. In Callum’s clothes. Callum had meant to speak to him, just like he'd promised himself he would the next time he met Ben. But...having him here, looking like this. It didn't feel right. It felt like he would just be unloading for his own benefit, and not for Ben. And knowing Ben, he'd just lash out. Callum felt like lashing out right now. 

It had been years since they’d last seen each other in the same room.

He reached for their ‘special occasion’ stash Whit enjoyed and went to the balcony. A blunt was a welcome respite today. He’d have to remember a good enough excuse or add some extra before she came looking and asking her millions of questions. He was more of a social smoker as he’d join Whitney in her recreational moments, but never on his own. Thank god for already rolled supplies, he wouldn’t even know where to start.

When Whitney met him at the altar and took their vows, that was it for Callum. He wasn’t going to look back. Until he did.

He remembered what it was like trying to avoid Ben especially when he was with Whitney. Things started to settle and Whit wasn’t as suspicious of him being out on his own or seeing them run into each other now that a ring was on his finger. Whitney understood he didn't take this commitment lightly and it was a mistake; Ben was a mistake. Ben was after all a part of their everyday lives on the square and he couldn’t avoid him with their constantly overlapping social lives. There had been a few spats between Ben & Whitney in quietly hissed and controlled moments, but Whit had told her closest confidants Callum assumed – seeing their dirty looks and suspicious eyes. It made all the more reason for him to join the force and focus on it with everything he got at that time.

But there was no avoiding Ben. He couldn’t help the what-ifs and those moments he realized Ben was watching him from the corner of his eye. He’d managed to stop his brother trying to meddle with Ben several times more before he threatened Stuart with an absolute cut off. Not before Ben stabbed him in the leg for permanent injury that ended with a police arrest and an ambulance.

That was just mild compared to the antics that he and his father began in the square after that. His fellow officers and superiors were starting to question his loyalties when it seemed almost immediately how he’d need to be involved with anything related to the Mitchells. And then there were all the times he’d be forced to meet Ben in secret to tell him to stop. Beg him to stop and… those damn moments of intimacy they never even realized were pushing them together again.

Ben with his sad eyes, Ben with that smirk through the tears and the way he’d just know what Callum was feeling inside. He’d just had a magnetism to him that brought Callum by the legs till they were in front of each other for valid reasons and not-so-valid reasons over and over even if it didn’t involve risking his career to save Ben. One day push came to shove like always and they were locked in a car together and… things went mental.

Callum was wracked with guilt more-so then, than he’d ever been. He’d assumed it was another day for Ben as he was so glad to profess. He’d fool around haphazardly just to keep up appearances only to come running to Callum as soon as Callum could make time for him. Just the sheer weight of keeping all this from Whitney and the family led to some suspicious work hours but he managed.

However, slowly yet surely the cracks started appearing in their lives for all to see. Alibis were falling short, and the pressure was on especially for Ben and it was brawl after brawl, incident after violent incident till Ben was knocked out cold for days by a bunch of guys who’d come to the Albert looking for him. The time around Paul's death always brings out the worst in Ben. He’d alienated pretty much everyone except for Jay at that point. And Jay wasn’t even able to come see him in the hospital.

Callum was reminded of that same lifeless body and face yet again today with Ben passed out in his arms as he carried him back to the car. It was easier to say he slung him over his arm than carried him like a lifeless sack of bones. The guilt that ate at him was monumental at the moment. But then the weed kicked in and the sky felt like something nice to focus on. His phone started ringing as he looked out at the furthest skyscraper and it’s blinking red light. Whit called for a catch up.

He’d arranged for her and Timmy to go spend some time over at the Vic whilst he dealt with the police operation. She didn’t know any details for her safety, but he’d been upfront that he’d like her somewhere other than their home for a bit with Mick. He was only happy to oblige with a full three day plan. She quickly filled him in on what was going well and it involved no harm at all. He spoke with Tim for a bit, a very thorough description of all of ollie’s toys he got to meddle with. He couldn’t really focus on the family he’d built for himself right now, so he ended the call quickly and promised a follow up later tomorrow. Feigning tiredness aroused her suspicions after a while, but he was tired.

He remembered Ben. Asleep. More like he couldn’t forget. He knew this wasn’t his healthiest…

But his skin, his body…. That face.

Shaking his head, he found himself walking back to their spare room. Bed slightly disheveled from use. He quickly got to work erasing all use of this room to an almost medical level. He’d gotten really good at that. Double checking and triple checking and finally walking out of there with the used glass of water he now put in the sink.

He took a deep breath steadying himself, he absent-mindedly turned to the bathroom in view from the kitchen. Ben’s clothes were bagged and still in his car needing to be dropped off at the cleaners. A thorough check of the Bathroom again wouldn’t hurt. Whitney wasn’t a snoop, but she was not someone to miss a toothbrush out of place, or hair in the bathtub drain.

He caught himself in the mirror and tried to rub away his euphoric sensations for just a second. He smiled at himself, almost like practice.

_‘Practice for Whit’_

Finding out he’d cheated on her was devastating, with devastating effects. Every call needed a reason, every man or woman in his life was under scrutiny for the most mundane of things. _‘Fair enough’_ he thought. But they’d finally settled into a great groove and level of trust. He showered down the bath one more time to make sure not even a hair was left in the drain. As the last of the water left the room pushed out, he couldn’t help replaying the dread he felt when he heard nothing back when he’d tapped on the door hours before.

He’d found Ben passed out in the falling warm water with just his shorts thankfully still on.

His milky white skin with splotches of red. His skinny body. Muscle clearly visible now. He looked like he worked out; weights at least for his arms and chest. Or was it the steady diet of alcohol and possibly pills. He was thankful he saw no needle marks or fading cuts. He wiped him down with two towels and then he… couldn’t help himself as Ben needed to be carried out of the bathroom.

He felt like he was part of a renaissance painting, holding Ben with a barely strewn towel that refused to conceal his... well. He stirred a little in his arms as he tried to bounce him into a better hold. The warm bath coupled with Callum’s arms seemed to be a comfort as he sighed and made things easy by scrunching himself up – probably from the impending cold.

Nothing felt more perfect than the grey sweatpants Ben used to steal sometimes when they had the flat above the funeral home for longer than a day or two to themselves. He’d kept them safely at the bottom of his home clothes. Never wearing them. Just reaching for them on occasion. Nostalgic. He’d gotten them and come back to the spare room to find Ben was snoring on the bed already, loudly. Belly barely protruding, hair buzzed shorter than his lashes. He looked less than his age like this, but also terribly weathered. Without the wear and tear caused by every person in his life – except for Lexi.

Lexi.

He hoped he got back in touch with Lexi. It was almost unforgivable their dalliances caused Lola to get up and leave Ben with no contact with Lexi thanks to how irritable, downright shoddy and unreliable he’d become. He wanted so badly to not be the cause of all this. But he knew it had to be his doing. Ben had told him so only so many times drunk and bitter, even though they’d somehow found there way back into each other’s arms to be consoled after.

His phone rang from an unknown number.

“Yellow… you can pick up in a bit. The speedy delivery will cost you a bit extra” Ben confidently chided. “I’m texting you the address for pick up, come with the cash” he said before Callum could get in a word. It was probably a recording to begin with.

He needed to dial his supervisor……….but.

Ben was across the street leaning against a shiny new BMW. He looked more like the man he remembered meeting at the Vic. Callum couldn’t help but smile at that bit of nostalgia. He’d found another insulated jacket that built the larger visual to him than the smaller man he was. It was all part of his identity now Callum realized, sadly. Callum crossed the road and walked into the lane just as Ben probably realized he didn’t have a bag of cash on him. Ben told him to stand back. A knife visible in his waist. Smart move as a gun would be greatly visible and draw too much attention – even though that was the order he had given, probably sitting comfortable in the boot.

“Forgive me for being pessimistic, but I don’t see the cash you need for this transaction fittin’ into your wallet mate” Ben spat out.

 _‘There was that Mitchell Charm’_ he couldn’t help think to himself.

Callum raised his hands and signified he was unarmed as subtlety might allow in a public space like this. He continued to walk towards Ben. He’d had a problem with Ben pushing cars before, and now he was moving all kinds of things for all kinds of people besides Phil.

Was he even in touch with Phil. He supposed he’d outgrown the patriarch already. It was a little ironic he dressed and walked like him now. Had his same drinking problem too. Ben was looking downright menacing even though Callum knew it was just an act – his eyes showed the fear of the situation just as much as the headache that still hadn’t cleared from a massive hurl up like that.

“You eaten?” Callum asked.

“I had a pie, mother” Ben spat at him. “Where’s my money?!” Ben asked forcefully pushing him against the wall the car was parked next to. It didn’t take much to turn the tables on a weakened Ben, pressing him by the same arm he grabbed before at the apartment. He was practically a leaf. Ben was ready to take a bite off him and it was just…saddening. Callum couldn’t look at him without a tear falling down his cheek any second, but seeing this face, up close. Again. Callum couldn’t help himself as he kissed Ben, pinned with his full strength against him and a wall. He only allowed him a few seconds but then Ben didn’t let go of his bottom lip pulling him in as the weight of this reunion suddenly hit Callum.

They broke the kiss breathless and there was nothing left to do.

“Ben they were coming for you. Get out of here and disappear. I’ll tell them you made me as soon as you saw me. I can’t watch you get arrested by my team” Callum felt like he could breathe easy for the first time today.

Ben was still panting from the kiss when he realized what Callum said.

“How long do I have…” Ben asked

“A day tops. Get outta London…” Callum said as he turned around to walk back to his car.

He’d confessed to his captain that Callum knew the contact and the operation was over the moment he got sober. They’d discussed the Mitchell connection and what that meant for next steps, but he needed to be debriefed before any further investigations are carried out. He tossed his third beer into the trash as he sat on the sofa, reeling from his day. He’s been debating telling Whitney to come back home for some sanity and escape.

But.

He’d prefer having the house to himself for a little longer.

He takes a long swig of the beer and realizes probably what keeps Ben turning to alcohol. He lets his head tip over to the back of his sofa, only to open his eyes as something grips his neck hard with metal pressed just above it. He can’t turn up without getting cut, but he’s sure it’s a knife to his neck. He tries to cool his nerves as the blade gets precariously close enough to his Adam’s apple. He prepares to reach for the knife by letting go of his beer, but he’s too late as the knife rises to strike or so he assumes because the grip on his neck loosens just slightly and drops below.

He takes a sharp breath only to realize the knife is now stuck in his sofa, just as a groan of exasperation is let out.

“Why the fuck did you just… walk in and set fire to everything again!” Ben exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“Ben… I had no..” Callum begins to explain all the while realizing he could’ve been dead, if it were anyone but Ben.

Callum doesn’t get a chance to explain as he’s being furiously kissed, a knife still in his plush Ikea sofa next to his face, hands grabbing his face and just pulling him down to somewhere he’d dreamed of tasting for many years.

Panting, Ben finally climbs off Callum’s lap and falls to the side with one leg still holding the pants and the shoes. All Callum can think of right now is explaining the tear in the sofa. He honestly can’t think of a good reason so he might be buying a new sofa tomorrow.

“This is not you leaving the fucking country Ben…” Callum turns to Ben, ticking off the next thing on his agenda.

“My flight’s in the morning!” Ben pants still, somehow completely comfortable for someone half-naked on cold wooden floor.

“They will be checking for you. I just spoke to my Boss only an hour back” Callum says, getting up and zipping his fly.

“Maybe a lovely boat ride then… fancy a trip for two. We never did make it to Cotswolds like we talked.”

“Ben! You’re a wanted criminal. They will start checking the whole of London for you in a bit…” Callum pleaded a little.

“How did you even get here” Callum wondered out loud “More importantly did you JUST FUCKING TRY TO STAB ME IN MY OWN HOME…” he hangs his head just imagining Whit finding out about the knife in the sofa. “Whit is going to crucify me over this hole”.

Ben chuckles his trademark chuckle. Finally getting up off the floor and pulling his pants back on. He wastes no time in coming to kiss Callum again and the novelty has worn off for Callum; so he turns away and bats Ben’s hand from reaching his face forcefully.

“I woke up in a hospital bed with you gone Callum! You think a fucking letter is going to explain shit.”

“I JUST COULDN’T LIVE WITH WHAT I HAD DONE TO YOU ANYMORE BEN!” Callum screamed, almost relieved to say that out loud as he falls to the ground, no more tears left to cry on this very abused topic. “I just…couldn’t watch you lose your life. It was the only thing you had left at that point” never expecting to point it out in such a brutally honest way.

“It was either I leave you or…kill myself and I’m too much of a coward as you can see to do that to you or Whitney” and then he cries, and cries, and cries.


	2. I Don't Know How To Be Myself Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Ben strike up a conversation. With disastrous results for Callum.

“Ok, what’s going on. This is the fourth time I’ve lost you in conversation Cal…” Whitney says, tapping him on his foot. The touch was so unwelcomed it makes him flinch, which causes her suspicions to rise even further. Whitney had returned with Timmy by Sunday evening with tales and excitement. He puts on a practiced smile and assured her it’s nothing. She leans back on the sofa giving him an unconvinced head tilt. The eyebrow raise was almost comical.

“Just a bit of work. An operation… not going as smoothly as it should have” Callum assures, venturing his own hand onto her knee. She eyes him for a bit longer and then settles back to her smile before getting up to go get their son into his bath before bed. Something in his chest releases as she’s out of sight again. The lies are back. If he’s being truly honest, they never left. He’d gotten better at it however; Phenomenally better.

He’d managed to get another cushion cover to deal with the tear that existed in one of the panels in his sofa. He’d spent most of Monday with his boss and an independent investigator giving his final remarks on the failed operation. They’d discussed following up with Phil Mitchell later this week and his protégé back in Walford. Ben remained at large even by Thursday. An unease had settled into the pit of his stomach and it wasn’t going away.

He found Whit in the bath and gave her the silent sign all potheads know that he was digging into her stash. His son was quite occupied with his soaped up head. A genuine smile for him came quite naturally. He walked over to the pantry looking for the small tin hiding behind the tea and the sugar in one of the upper doors. There was a half smoked joint in there with his name on it. It’s not like he’s hiding it from Whit when she’s in the house. She’ll probably join him in a bit herself. He opened the balcony and lit up.

It wasn’t a shock when he’d found Whitney smoking up at a friends gathering a few years back. His initial distaste for it was purely professional. He’d given into the curiosity for weed in his early 20s, but it never felt like something a person with this many secrets should indulge in so casually. Once they had an open conversation about it, Whit had braved mentioning she had some at home, stashed away and… it had led to a bonding experience for them. Little did she know it was Ben who had shared with him its benefits on enhancing intimacy. Something he now depended on for getting on with his ‘husbandly duties’. He’d be too ashamed to admit it out loud, but he loved Whitney enough to give her everything she deserved. Even if it felt so alien to him.

And then there was the way Ben held his face and looked at him as he looked a crying blubbering mess on his own living room floor. He’d learnt early on as a kid to cry quietly, but sometimes there was no holding back. Damn embarrassing. He’d begged Ben to leave so many times yet his hands never stopped holding on to his jacket. He can’t recall how long they were seated across from each other on the floor, but Ben did get up and leave without a sound at some point, even though his eyes were closed right throughout. Callum thought he just needed a moment to stretch his aching body as the door clicked, but he’d slept there for a few hours comforted by the cold stretch of floor.

Ben came in and left so swiftly.

He'd cheated on his wife without a moment of hesitation. Again. Callum had been so good up until now. There had been lingering moments before. Unwarranted attention he’d been quick to nip with complete strangers and not so stranger-ly men. He was married, his ring clearly in view. But most deterrent was the fact he’d left all of this behind with Ben. Moving into this life, this part of London was to put this all behind him.

“Um…wow. A whole joint kind of a problem is it” Whit inquires, finding the roach almost over.

“Sorry! I got carried away!! I’ll pitch in this time. Get some of the hash you wanted to get” his guilt evident.

“Relax!! I have my moments too. No one tells you how crazy it gets with a five year old and a budding fashion business…” Whit joined in on surveying the night and their somewhat okay view. “…now tell me. Did you mess up something at work? What happened. You’ve been awfully silent since we got back. Who you cheating on me with?” Whit says jokingly.

“Whit I swear there isn’t anything going on! It’s just..” Callum doesn’t realize how soon he’d leapt into his defense. Whit couldn’t help herself from playing on his sort of high face it seems “…you joking aren’t you! Why do I fall for this every time!!” Callum couldn’t help reach out and put his arm around her.

“So tell me babe… No need specifics or Copper things. You always feel better with talking it out” Whit says squeezing him from the side. Callum relents. They were always mates first. 

“Just the thing from work going sideways. Was supposed to be a quick thing. Wham-bam! But got complicated. Sat with investigators today. I second guessed myself and… ” which wasn’t a lie. Being grilled by an independent inspector was quite grueling. He didn’t take Callum’s word on Ben & him just knowing each other. “Well it’s over now. Just tired…” He looks at her. Beautiful, successful, his wife. He widens his smile, reaching for the happy place all the photos in his living room seem to signify.

“That’s it then. It’s going to be fine” she says, pulling his head down, angling for a kiss. Looking at him through her dark lashes. He closes his eyes and remembers to kiss her gently, just as the cotton mouth settles in and the past few days seem to slip away. He was ignoring how everything about this kiss felt so wrong. How her body against him just felt so so wrong. He had a part to play. He was good at playing this part. So good.

\--------------------------------------------

Callum tries to keep his eyes open so hard. If he could just get out the car and walk for a few mins he would be fine, but he has to settle for tapping his feet against the door and hope he isn’t shaking the whole damn vehicle with his frustration.

They're keeping an eye on a suspect who’d walked into a suburban home. Not much info was given. Just that they were to keep an eye on a him as he was deemed armed and dangerous. A black man with short cropped hair dressed in a collared tshirt, jeans & trainers. Possibly gang related Callum thought – basic info said he had priors. He looked quite young. His phone rang for an update from his superior. It was quick as there was nothing to report. The perp hadn’t budged in at least four hours. This all counted as overtime so he was thankful for it. Mostly that it got him out of the house for longer than necessary.

It was 4am and he had maybe 2 more hours for it to count as the night shift. He thought he’d listen to a podcast of some sort, constantly checking his phone and the door he had his eye on so he didn’t miss anything. The lights were off and even the backdoor opened to the side.

But then, He got a call from a number he didn’t know.

It rang for a whole bit, long enough for his service to tell him it was coming from Australia. Nobody he knew was in Australia. It wasn’t listed as spam on trucaller either. But it could still be spam he thought. He looked up at the house again, not allowing himself to be distracted. His phone allowed him to have two chips in – both his work & personal. The call had come to his personal number so, it definitely wasn’t a work thing.

The line rang again and he answered.

“Hi…” he said, unsure what to expect.

“Hello…this is Callum Highway right?”

“….” It couldn’t be.

“….Ben?” He sounded… sober at least.

“…Did I wake you? Shit, it must be dawn over there” He seemed genuinely apologetic.

“I’m at work…” Callum kept his eye on the house again more firmly.

“Oh…sorry…” Ben… sounded great.

“What time is it over there. Are you in bloody Australia?” Callum ventured, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s the afternoon over here. Best not get into specifics if yer phones monitored isn’t it” Ben ventured.

“You shouldn’t be callin’ at all Ben” Callum ventured. He felt like he released a breath he’d been holding for months. Knowing Ben was safe was a relief. “But I’m glad I know you’re safe” He added, not wanting the call to end. “It’s my personal phone number. How did you even get it” Callum wondered out loud.

“The Mitchell name can work wonders Callum…” and there it was, that old cockiness. It almost warmed his heart. Callum willed himself to be more focused on the job at hand. But it wasn’t like there was someone to tell him to do otherwise. The perp was potentially asleep. He relaxed his legs and thought, why not a phone call. A nervousness came out of nowhere. What do they talk even about.

“Are you still Mitch then?…wherever you are. Doing God knows what” Callum hoped his light tone was evident. The last bit a little exasperated. What could Ben be involved with now in Australia.

“Thankfully no. I’m Ben… always was…” Ben sounded calm, warm even. A Ben he was fond of. “Listen I’m sorry to keep you from work. Just thought I’d check in...”.

“No worries. Got to get back as well. You never dropped off our radar Ben. Keep off socials.” Callum offered grudgingly. That’s what he knows they would be looking for.

“You never dropped off mine…” Ben says.

And Callum regrets he didn’t get a chance to ask more about that before the line clicks.

But he can’t deny it warmed him down to the soul.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It was a week later when he plucked up the courage to try calling the same number. It had been disconnected. A burner phone probably. A smart move on Ben's part. Then Callum remembered how long Ben had been at this kind of business. He was probably way ahead of any advice Callum had to offer from this side of the proverbial fence.

Another month later he’d missed a call while at work from another number that began with an Aussie code. He tried calling back almost immediately and it hadn’t picked up. He tried to contain his excitement & nervousness. The number called back just as his lunch break was on and he signaled to his partner that he had to take this. It was Ben. He didn’t want to waste time in nervous could/should conversation. He really wanted to know how Ben was doing.

It was nervous and tentative at first. But then they’d settled into a nice catch up. No names and places. He was with Lola & Lexi in Australia. A little research later on his own time showed she’d migrated to Melbourne some time back. Lexi was in her teens easily. But still the same beautiful blonde. Her father’s features coming in more. When asked nervously about work, Ben had gotten into the business of cars and promised it was fully legal. They were half an hour past his lunch break before Callum realized he needed to walk back into his pending files & briefing later on today… but he couldn’t help it.

“Listen… I got to get back to work. It’s good to hear back from you…” He debated what to call him since they might be surveilled on this call. “Mitch, Ben… whatever...” he thought what the hell. He couldn’t be any more paranoid.

“…Felt like I was loosing it, till I called you.” Ben added. There was a pregnant pause there. Almost comfortable silence. They said their longer than necessary goodbyes and Callum couldn’t help ponder on that call that was almost an hour (well, 43:22 Minutes) for most of his day. He was caught daydreaming as he made himself a tea at work. Then back at home.

Tim was regaling him with a story from school today seated on his lap, tablet forgotten when he found himself wondering what Ben would be like with Tim.

A doting uncle. Really great presents. Terrible influence. Would he call him ‘my little prince’ though. He was so fond of calling Lexi his Princess.

“Dad, you’re not listening!!” Tim had grabbed him by the face. “…and then I had to tell Miss Rivers that Georgina had taken my blue pencil!” Tiny Tim explained in all seriousness. Mellow blue eyes, hair a dirty blonde just like his, or a little darker, soft face shape just like Whitney, and those tiny hands. He squeezed him in his hands.

“And then what happened my little Prince!” Callum asked, pretending to be hooked onto the words coming out of his mouth.

“Miss. Rivers. Said. To. Share. With Georgina. Mean Georgina took my pencil and didn’t even give it back after!” He said. He hoped his face showed as much shock as he could.

“Well why don’t you tell her tomorrow that you spoke with your dad who is with the Police and the Police would like to get involved if she doesn’t give it back. Color pencils are very important business for the East London Police and”

“ **Callum you will not encourage our son to bully a girl over Color pencils!** ” Whitney shouted from the kitchen and Timmy and him both flinched. They both shared a secret smile as Callum picked him up and offered to put the boy into bed; So they could discuss the finer points of what exactly Timmy had to say to naughty Georgina.

\-----------------------------------------

Life moved at a snail’s pace most days. But then there were the pockets of sunshine involving life's hidden joys. He and Ben had figured out an encrypted app to chat over. One that made messages disappear in a matter of seconds if you wanted to. By default, his were gone in 5 seconds of being read.

He’d seen photos of life around Ben. Ben had seen whatever photos and videos he could send him as well, when he felt brave. Ben definetely sent more than he should. Callum was just not sure what to send most times. They kind of knew what was up outside of certain details in their lives. It had been almost a year past since that day at the bar. Whit was completely off topic as he maneuvered around questions about her politely. So was Callum’s work. He’d trained himself to avoid the app altogether most times. Especially at work. Ben seemed to be pretty keen on texting around a beer or two, which meant around evening at work. He was also learning to keep his full attention on at home, lest Whitney got suspicious again.

They were just texting. There was nothing going on. They were just keeping in touch.

Well… that was until Ben said:

[I miss you – 3.30pm]

It did things to Callum’s insides he didn’t know how to decipher.

[I miss you too. X – 3.32pm]

The message had barely delivered when he got the call. He cut it and texted _‘just a sec’_. He made his way onto the rooftop of their three-storey office building where officers tended to go up for a smoke and thanked his stars that it was empty.

It was random at first, just talking about things they had texted before. But Ben said he missed him again. Callum’s heart lurched with nervousness.

“Yeah…well. You’re over there ain’t it Ben.” He said bitterly. But what was he saying. He was married. Whatever this was … is not allowed to cross over any further. “And I’m still married” he added, painfully.

“Isn’t there…someone over there for you?” Callum asked.

“There’s been a few…” Ben mentioned, Callum couldn’t help the hurt that he felt, but it was not without merit. He was married.

 _‘He was married, with a kid’_ He repeated mentally, to himself.

“…just bodies.” He sounded almost bitter. “…Not you”.

Callum searched for the right words. Words that helped Ben, words that protected Whit & Timmy, words that kept him from losing his mind.

An officer opened the door and signaled for him. He mouthed saying he needed a minute. But it seemed insistent as the guy held the door open and waited.

“Ben I’m…being called in. I gotto go. I’ll text you” Callum said, and he heard the phone click before he felt it should have. He walked down the stairs in silence wondering what he might text Ben with. Best to pretend like this call never happened was Bens style and not his. But he felt it was the best way he could respond.

It was an hour into his briefing about the latest crime lord the city was having to deal with, he ventured looking at his messages in the deeply hidden app with notifications deactivated.

[Sorry I called – 4.19pm]

[Ben, I don’t know what to say – 5.07pm]

And that was their last message for many many weeks.

He woke up to his phone ringing.

It was an Australian number. Different than the last. Whit was asleep next to him, well at least she was until she turned to him annoyed.

He kissed her and whispered it was work as he silenced it and moved to take it out of their bedroom.

There were four missed calls before, all the same number.

Ben was calling again before he could even dial back.

“Callum I need you to get to the Square. They’ve taken Dad & Jay.”

He’d called it in saying it was an anonymous tip off to the control room and requested support.

As much as TV shows and movies promoted this idea of gun toting coppers on the scene in a matter of minutes, there was procedures and permissions to follow before Guns were in their hands and they were at a scene of a crime. Well, except it seems in America.

He’d grabbed his gun from the safe he keeps it in at home.

He’d asked for a squad car from the local Walford Police – something only his boss could approve. He’d told him just because Phil Mitchell was involved things couldn’t be approved, but he guessed he didn’t realize how badly the local office designated to the square wanted the old bastard for his many prior offences. They had already beaten him to the scene by the time he had got there because they had already covered it minutes after the incident had occurred.

He was arriving just as an observer, so he wasn’t allowed a vest or any involvement.

The Car sale had been ransacked; a windscreen shattered by someone falling onto it.

Police tape had been put. As a courtesy he was allowed the witness report.

Basic gist – Jay had been taken from his apartment. Phil from the Car sale with much more force. There were a few witnesses for the scuffle that ensued even though it was in the morning hours. The ruckus had woken neighbors who called the police either way. It had to be some shady dealing related to the car sale, but also… something about an infringement of territory.

To say Ben was distraught was an understatement. He’d called panicked and blabbering. But the message was clear he wanted Callum to go to Jay’s and Phil’s aid in his stead. Someone had called him to tell him the situation, probably Sharon who was now at the Police giving her statement on the abduction. Checking on the rest of the Mitchells, he’d realized the police had moved into their home for questions. Obviously he wasn’t allowed any further information because this wasn’t his jurisdiction no matter how shiny his badge was.

He tried calling Ben at least two times as he walked over to the Vic. He was just about to leave a message when a hand grabbed him and pulled him towards the alley away from all the commotion up the street.

“I know who it was! And we need to move fast.” She said.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

_‘What was it with gangsters and abandoned warehouses’_ Callum thought.

For once, he’d like to deal with some crime that happened in a well airconditioned hotel or hall. Sitting in the afternoon sun without the A/C or engine on just to avoid suspicion led to such thoughts.

Karen was loyal to a fault when it came to her son, but she wasn’t willing to live with the guilt of what he’d orchestrated albeit foolishly. There was a change in power at the square it seems in Ben’s absence. Keanu had always seemed tipped to take over being a Mitchell by law, but he’d gotten greedy to prove himself further to his father in law and mentor. In a bid for power, he’d interrupted a shipment of goods for the new king pin for the town, the Russians were not as understanding on turf disputes and had come for who they thought was the head of the local operation. It had taken the rest of the day for him and Shirley to track the full story down individually and together, but they had a pretty good picture – and decided they had to deal with this on their own, even though Callum had encouraged her to let the Police deal with it. He’d gotten threatened with violence and dragged by the arm to his own car. To keep ‘old bill’ off their attempts, he filled in the Walford PD with all the information they could spare about Keanu as Shirley and him tracked Phil & Jay being held for explanations (hopefully) to a warehouse up town through some of Phil’s old cronies Shirley was familiar with.

Callum seated in his car looked over at the 60 year old who’d become his partner for the day. Her stern face focused on the tattered door they were supposed to go into. He’d never understood how readily Shirley would come to the rescue of the Mitchells. He recalled there was no love lost there, but still.

“Do you want a bullet in your thigh halfway” she asked not moving her eyes. He quickly adjusted in his seat to avoid any and all confrontation with her unless absolutely necessary.

“Ok, we get in, get them. We get out…after” she said, watching as the last car on the premises left. “Ok…let’s go”.

Callum knew he shouldn’t be getting involved in this ‘unsanctioned’ operation with a fire arm not approved for use, but if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t need to fire it and there would be no need for a report. Shirley was already a few steps ahead of him as he mustered his courage to venture after her. There was no stopping her it seemed. It was fairly straight forward; 1950 clothes mill still with most of its board partitions. No guards or men in sight as the place was owned by the Russians even though it was derelict and abandoned looking. Probably an ad-hoc place for processing and dealing with their meetings and problems.

His heart lurched at the thought of finding Phil & Jay dead. Ben would never forgive him in some way for not doing everything he could have. He shook his head and tried to focus as Shirley surveilled from pillar to pillar, Gun ever so ready to be used. By their luck there seemed to be only one person seated and speaking to a Phil who was still tied to the spot, gag around his neck. But there was also two men who slipped into view from across the room now. Carefully watching the conversation go down.

Another man was bound and still on the floor. He assumed the lanky body was Jay, hopefully conscious. His phone pinged. He fought the urge to check as a sweat started to pour down his sideburns.

It seemed Shirley’s braveness had run its course as she signaled for him to go ahead.

He was glad he was running on an empty stomach as the adrenaline was kicking in. He took his safety off his standard issue pistol and moved ahead of her to take cover against a failing chipboard.

He poked his head over just as Phil banged the table that stood between him and a man in a full suit. It echoed right through the mostly empty space.

Two men besides the man seated with Phil moved closer making things a little more difficult. One moved over to stand behind Phil who seemed to be bleeding from the nose a bit. Callum ducked before he came into view as he turned up on reflex.

He turned and signaled to Shirley there were three men, but…

Shirley fired.

_Fucking old people._

He stood up quickly trying to take advantage of the surprise.

Phil had his head pressed into the table by a man with a machine gun now. It was probably what was slung behind his back.

_Fucking Russians._

The man in the suit was now standing behind the gunmen and Phil. He kicked Jay for good measure.

Callum ran to cover the distance before anything dramatic happened in this situation with his gun raised and pointed. Shirley was damn faster.

“The Police are on their way. Nothing crazy Gents. We just want them.” Callum said not taking his eyes off of the whole group.

“You don’t look Police” said the younger most man with the Machine Gun, pikey for hire probably. Callum clicked his trigger a bit and smiled menacingly. That seemed to prove the point.

Shirley pocketed her gun and reached for Jay who started squirming from the sound of the gunshot.

“We were just talking officer…” the greying gentleman mentioned before saying something in Russian to his hired help. The guy with the gun lifted it off Phil and started to back away.

“We’ve sorted out business anyway. Gentleman…I think its time we left.” The man said too coolly for someone who ran behind his guard just a few moments ago.

His men walked backwards never taking their eyes off until they were too far to be shot at. The gentleman in the suit reached for his phone, probably signalling for a car to return.

Phil looked almost relieved to see Callum. Until Shirley smacked his bald head.

“You stupid Oaf…look what your legacy got you into now” her hand visibly shaking even with the gun.

Honestly Callum couldn’t disagree.

“Can we please leave before I loose my job!” He asked, sarcastically wishing Walford PD was smart enough to follow the breadcrumbs here any moment.

\------------------------------------------------

A few hours later he was at the Vic’ sipping a pint like it was the first pint he’d had in years. The nerves were gone, only tiredness a long bath could deal with. He opened his eyes to Shirley being in view behind the counter, polishing a glass like it was just another day for her. He marveled at her. Her hand shook for a bit post their little confrontation, but she was back to business after the whole deal. She caught his eye and scowled at him. He tried to look away and caught Mick walking over to him with a stern look on his face, but got interrupted by Linda, she’d looked at him all peculiar before turning to Mick again. He wondered if Shirley filled them in.

He smiled either way, focusing back on his beer. He's smile and wait for whatever this was.

Phil and Jay quietly sat at the back of his car as they zoomed back to the square. He parked his car right near the Vic’ and filled his boss in on any relevant information since the man seem deeply connected to the briefing he’d only had days before about the Russians in town. Probably enforcer, quite seasoned. Jay walked back out of the Mitchell house with a bruise developing nicely on his upper lip. They chatted a bit. Nonsense mostly before Jay thanked him and hugged him. He wasn’t surprised when the hug lasted longer and he felt a tiny sob take him. They weren’t the closest… but close enough for him to pat him on the back and hold him a bit. Jay had been barefoot the whole time, just in his jammies. He had insisted he come in as Phil was still talking with Sharon & the rest of the gang. Keanu nowhere in sight. Probably still at the police.

Callum encouraged Phil to come clean and say he’s done with all this, so that the police could keep him and the family safe from any unwarranted interactions. He tried to dig into the conversation Phil was having with the enforcer, but Phil was weary of him even before this. Things got quiet and the silence was almost uncomfortable till Phil said a completely misplaced ‘thank you’ and walked off into the kitchen. Everybody at the table was shocked as he was. Less uncomfortable as he was for sure.

He couldn’t wait to tell Ben about melting Phil Mitchell’s icy heart of stone a bit.

“Whit had called… I got Linda to talk to her.” Mick said and sat down giving him a sort of pained look. And that’s when he realized he’d not really responded to any of Whitney’s calls or messages all day. He reached for the phone and tried to send her a quick message saying work stuff when he realized…

“Did…Linda tell...” Callum just realized what all this would’ve meant. It was no secret this whole fiasco was about the Mitchells. Callum had lies and excuses and stories now ready that were a mile long that explained things. But… But they would all fail when Whit looks at him. If Mick’s grimace was anything to go by, he knew he was now having to give explanations he didn’t plan on. Ever.

He was in with the Mitchells. Which leads to…

He was back in contact with Ben.

“Son, are you and Ben…”

“We’ve been talking.” It wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the whole truth. He tries not to make eye contact. “Ben called me out of the blue today and told me to…help” Callum feels like he’s lost all standing with Mick, and he’d do anything to get it back. Even lie.

“And it was for work yeah…” Mick ventured, hopeful.

“Yeah” Callum looked up plastering that smile on.

“Go home halfway. Best to give whit the full story. She’s going to kill you either way” Mick nervously pats him on the shoulder before getting up to greet new customers who walked in. “They scream at you, but they love you these women. Still want to kill you but… love you they do” he added.

The sigh he releases hopefully doesn’t let on more than he intended.

\-------------------------------------------------

Callum was parked just outside the apartment building for almost half an hour. It was almost 9pm. Tim was in bed for sure. He’d checked his phone and willed a message or a notification from his socials to distract him settling in to check scores from Man United’s match he’d missed. He’d left a message with Ben.

[Sorted. Phil & Jay are safe. – 8.55pm]

There were several messages and calls from Whit but towards the end.

[Come Home. – 5.05pm]

Fuck it. Let’s do this. 

He’d paced the entire elevator ride up. He was outside his door sweating in cool weather. Not a good look.

He opened the door with his key. The lights were all out except for the spare room. He looked around, hovered wondering where Whit could be. Hopefully in bed.

Whit walked out of the spare bedroom, looking tired. Guess not sleeping then.

He smiled for her. Awkward, nervous, afraid.

She just rolled his eyes at him as she walked past him and over to the kitchen.

“Whit…” he said, as she had her back turned to him looking for… the vodka, it seems.

“Tell me.” She said in such a derisive tone, picking a tumbler.

The quietness in the house was maddening. She grabbed the glass and was just about to hurl it at him when she must have realized it’ll wake their sleeping son. She put it down and poured herself pure Vodka like it was pure hatred.

“Tell. Me. Again. How Ben had your number.” She took two gulps, tears but no crying.

He tried to remember. He’d just gotten a phone call. She couldn’t have known it was Ben. She couldn’t have EVER known it was Ben.

“It wasn’t Ben it was work.” Callum stated, hoping he could gaslight her. There was no denying it. He had to.

“Callum, I called work and then they told me you called in for leave” She said, looking at the tumbler in her hand.

“Callum, I know the FUCKING CALL in the morning was Ben” She looked at him with eyes that could’ve been daggers.

This is it. She fucking knew. But Callum had to try.

"Listen, only my boss knew... it was" Callum knew she was his best friend and everything. She knew when he’d eaten from out. She’d known there was something from the start about the weird way Ben and he were around eachother. But she’d trusted him. But he had to try, because it was more than Whitney and him at risk right now. He was exhausted with the lies, but there was happiness here, and life... even if it was held together by a delicate thread.

"Callum, enough. Your work wouldn't take you to meddling with Mitchells. Just tell me the truth." She said.

"Whit..." He started. But She... seemed to change tactics.

"Ok, then give me your phone." She asked, hand out, eyes not flinching.

And...that's when Callum realized, this was... nothing he could escape from. His head reeled. He hoped it wasn't a long pause as his hand reached into his pocket for the phone, knowing full well he had nothing to worry about when it came to messages...but Call logs...were. Another story today. Shit.

“Ok...He called me and…” Callum just started, before a hand raised to stop him.

Whit tried to scream, but she muffled it herself as she put the glass in her hand down with quite a bit of force, reaching for the bottle.

“You know the worst part. I fucking knew…” she said, voice cracking a bit. “I called myself paranoid. My friends called me paranoid…” She took another monstrous gulp.

“Even before the wedding they told me leave you because…” She tried to hold a sob in, or she stopped her self from saying something.

"EVEN WHEN BEN HIMSELF, CAME TO ME BEGGING TO LET YOU GO" 

“Whit” He didn’t even get a chance to finish his words before she jumped across their distance and slapped him so hard he couldn’t help but bend low. He was only standing because he held onto the pantry counter. It reminded him of his childhood so hard so fast.

She was sobbing now.

“I’m done. I’m taking Tim. I’m taking everything from you.” She grabbed the bottle now that the glass was over, catching her breath and locked herself in the spare room.

Callum just felt to the floor where he stood not knowing what he could or should do.

\-----------------------------------------

[I’m going home. Don’t call me. Don’t text. – 6.18am]

His messages stopped going through a day ago after that. An ocean of text in explanation of a very well articulated version of the truth. The number was off when he tried to call. He’d called anyone Whit considered family the next day, and they had all refused any mediation. He didn’t have time to be embarrassed or ashamed anymore. He wanted to talk to Whit and tell her anything she’d need to hear to just come back.

That’s when he’d gotten a call from Mick, the only one willing to talk to him and he’d begged Callum to give her some time and not show up at all anywhere in the square like everyone else thought he would. Mick had thankfully put Timmy on the phone for a bit and he managed to have the entire conversation without betraying his sobs or tears.

He called in sick to work, they were more than accommodating. He had to mention to his partner that it was a family situation with Whitney. He’d offered a pint and a chat, but he wasn’t ready to be this vulnerable with anyone from work. He was on the floor of his tiny balcony, smoking the last joint in the house. Small mercies he thought as Whitney hadn’t taken it, but definitely taken a great share of her clothes and things in the middle of the night as he lay sleeping on the floor in the kitchen.

Stuart had called, practically trying to force himself through the ground floor security next. He was really not in a place to talk to his bull of a brother. No matter how big his heart was, he’d want to beat up a Mitchell and Phil was not someone to be messing with right now.

But the last bit of weed seemed perfect. He understood the escape. He understood why people smoked this stuff to forget. It wasn’t bliss, but it was something like it.

“How the mighty have fallen” said a voice just as he let go of the burning filter.

He shot up quite quickly, and Ben's hand tried to steady him from the shock of surprise. His leather jacket wearing arm.

Ben almost glowed.

Yup, definitely the weed.

He must have looked a bit comical gawking at him.

He tried to shake the haze of the past two days off, but…. It was two days in the making.

“What…” he rubbed his eyes. Trying to sober a bit “…how the hell do you always end up through my door”.

“Tricks of the trade. That and well….Well if you checked your messages you’d know I was already on the way to a plane when I called you” Ben said, reaching down to squat at Callum’s level. With one eye open and less light to adjust to, this face brought back memories. “Been a bit busy with Dad, but thought you were due for a check up”.

It was fuller, with a healthy color to him that wasn’t just a photo filter. The scars could almost be blinked away and he was looking at the same Ben Mitchell he remembered from the early 20’s. Something about that warmed him. He reached out for his face almost instinctively. He turned back to his view letting go.

“Ben you’re still on our wanted list. What are you doing here. Go see your dad and leave soon” He said. It was painful to know Ben was just centimeters away from him.

Ben steadied himself with his hand and leaned forward and kissed him once. Ben’s kisses make him sigh and relax in a way… Whitney never could. Callum’s eyes were closed, but he could feel Ben’s questions & concern.

“You heard…” Callum asked, turning away, trying to avoid his eyes. The sadness came back like a sea.

“Yeah…” Ben said, as Callum’s hand tightly gripped his.

Ben hugged him tight and Callum cried never making a sound.

He’d been walking on the square from his Dad’s to the Beale house when Bianca had walked across the road to slap him. She’d raised the hand for the second one when he grabbed it, hard.

“First ones free darling, but mind explaining before the second one?” He snarled. She moved in close and sneered the next few words.

“It’s bad enough you engage in devilry. We all knew you were a lost cause Ben Mitchell, but how dare you show your face here again and ruin Whitney and Callum’s lives. THEY HAVE A SON!”

Ben reeled from that. He didn’t know what exactly happened. But he knew he needed to see Callum. Bianca was still going at him in her loud whispering tone when he came back to reality. He shoved her.

 _“This is what happens when you put people on pedestals”_ He thought to himself as he sped all the way across town, tipped the security to let him in again and picked the lock. Only to find Callum with his back to the door on the balcony, smoking weed.

Maybe he should bring some weed next time.

 _‘next time’_ he laughed to himself. He never knew when there next time was going to be. So he settled in like always for this to be their last time.

He’d held Callum for a bit, although to be quite honest he was so done with all this crying and bullshit. For someone who was in the army and been through hell, Callum sure was quick to tears. Ben hated how Callum never made a sound as he cried. Barely a muffled noise, but so quick to tears. It was all the more alarming when he cried and sobbed at the same time. There was a lot of it between them, but he knew those are the moments he really needed to get involved. But right now there was a resignation in Callum he couldn’t really understand. He seemed… resigned to some kind of fate.

Push had somehow come to the proverbial shove and Callum had lost footing it seemed.

They’d settled on the tiny balcony floor and been there for over an hour in complete silence. With just enough room for two, it made for a cozy sight probably with Callum and him like this. How such a tall man could curl himself into a ball around his five foot eight figure still warmed his heart. The weed had probably knocked him out completely for a bit, but Ben couldn’t afford to let him settle here.

He nudged him awake and dragged him to the spare room he remembered. Best to avoid the scene of the almost stabbing in the virtually scar-less sofa he thought. Not one of his finer moments Ben admitted to himself. Callum tumbled into the bed as soon as the door opened. He was over the covers and head already buried between the pillows. Ben wanted to climb right in after him.

Ben wanted to pull those loose shorts down, below where they already rested showing the dip and meddle with his…

Callum turned around and looked at why he didn’t just follow him into the bed. His hair a mess. It’s kind of rare to see it in such a mess.

Callum probably realized that was an invitation he had to make, and he sat up fast pulling a pillow into his grasp. Like that protected him from Ben. And his fantasy X-ray vision.

“Take a nap. I’ll order some food. I’ll be right here in the living room when you wake up” Ben said.

Callum nodded and fell backwards. Ben closed the door behind him quietly.

Callum needed some care and attention, just like he’d extended to him over and over. Not the kind of attention Ben craved for right now. Ben felt guilty for how he just sexualized Callum, but seeing him like this messed with his wires a bit. He wasn’t good with words, but he was great with actions. And he’s starting to learn his actions have effects. That’s why they are here and now in this situation after all. With Ben somehow loosing Whitney… for the moment at least. He’d never admit to the vicious jealousy he feels. They never had time or the moment to discuss it. As far as Callum was concerned, he was a secret that needed to be kept.

And …. That was okay for a while.

He shakes his head.

This is about Callum. The man who risked his life and career for his father and brother.

He could keep it in his pants and in his head for a moment.

He could eat his feelings.

His feelings felt like Indian today.

\--------------------------------

Callum came to, as he heard the bell ring. The door opened and closed. And just like that he was quite awake. Just a heavy head. And heavy heart. He heard cupboards being opened. The walls in his apartment were evidently thin… or was things easy to be heard when there wasn’t a five year old living in it. As if his heart couldn’t be compressed any further, his body physically tried.

If this was the heartache Whitney felt, he wanted to jump off his balcony this instant.

He reached for his phone in his pocket. No messages except for work related things and emails. He texted her phone number just a simple ‘hi’. But it was pending delivery, just like the rest since day before; they were all pending delivery.

Callum tried calling Mick, but he cut the line.

He was told to give her space and to try and understand. He’d set up personalized messages and flower deliveries to the house almost on a daily basis before Mick called and asked him to stop after the third time. It was frustrating not to know what to do next.

He was cried out. Officially cried out. His eyes just itching now every time he wanted to cry. He needed some eye drops. Maybe a shave.

There was a knock on his door. He didn’t say otherwise, but the door opened. Ben was there letting some light in before he shut it behind him. He sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his foot.

“I got Indian. Felt like Indian. I got like six different kinds of samoosa” he said not making eye contact.

“It’s samosa.” Callum corrected, he doesn’t know fucking why. Ben still insists it’s a ‘samoosa’.

“Were you like this in school? Constantly correcting people on the names for Indian food?” mock annoyance evident.

“Just with gits like you who say ‘sa-moo-sa’” Callum says, poking him with his foot.

Ben takes it as an invitation to scamper up the bed. They tussle a bit, Ben knowing exactly where to poke Callum to make him writhe and giggle. Ben had taken off his jacket before he’d come in. Callum could feel the sturdy muscles in his arm. He’d stopped moving just to take in Ben. Ben seemed like his best self. Fitter for sure. Callum just realized how even in the dim light the collared t-shirt just…fit him really well. Ben just realizing the attention, put more of his weight on him as he adjusted…for a cheeky flex under his hand.

“Someone’s been working out…” Callum said his thoughts out loud.

“Just a bit of lifting with. Busy with cars and things now at the showroom. Got to look like a display piece...” Ben admitted, settling in more with his weight on Callum’s stomach, as he moved up a little more closer to his face. He could feel his slightly warm breath, the coriander from probably an Indian dish he’d sampled very evident. He reached down with his lips almost touching and…. Callum’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“Ben…I” Callum couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

“Just came in to let you know about dinner. Let’s eat…”Ben said in a rush to get off him. He was out the door faster than Callum could’ve ever chased him.

 _‘…I can’t do this again’_ ready to fall of Callum's lips, no matter how much his body betrayed him right now.


	3. Did we buy these Roses just for them to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum takes a drastic step in forcing Whitney's hand - All so that he could have his son back, and her talking to him. With disastrous effects. Ben finally gets some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect to be so consumed by this. But here I am, writing every waking moment. If anyone has any input on who Whitney lives with, leave a comment on some names I can add to a specific scene.

Callum had come out of the bedroom eventually, tried some of the food laid out in the pantry in a strange quietness. The Both of them seemed to be trying to deal with the awkwardness of their last interaction; Denial seemed the best option. Out of sheer nervousness Ben decided to spout about his news, movies and random updates from the square his mom and her family had shared with him. Kathy had made updates to the Cafe finally. The younger Beales and Mitchells were off to College. Louise's kid & Phil's son were getting on like siblings. Ben was fast becoming a fan of Australian Rugby. He'd impressed on Callum how he's only shuffling between the houses and keeping his presence low-key for safety's sake. He'd taken up Kathy's offer of staying with her as well, dropping in on Phil to chat... catching up after what has been years of silence. Callum had let Ben drone on about things at random for quite a bit and Ben was almost running out of topics. A slight smile or a nod did occur on occasion, but Callum seemed miles away.

Ben wanted to talk to him about his life in Australia, let him know what no one else knew but … it didn’t feel like the right time.

“If you’re done. Let me pop these out for you” Ben offered busying himself, but Callum silently joined him in stuffing things back into the plastic bags it came with. “…. We got dessert” He offered. Ben remembering the things in the fridge. An Indian dessert he didn’t even want to try pronouncing. Callum seemed to know what it was, digging in with a plastic spoon that was pasted on top of the clear box.

Callum was leaning against the counter lost again in the remaining milk. Not even the sweets doing their usual job.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ben offered.

“Oh, right sorry… What were you saying…” Callum had shot up, realizing he’d checked out whilst Ben had talked. Ben had enough of this dancing around. He reached out for Callum’s hand, connecting with his eyes. It was now or never.

“What’s going on Cal’. Did Whit rend into you about disappearing on her at the crack of dawn?” he offered jokingly. The mood seemed light. But Callum’s face said he’d read the room wrong. As he’d might.

“Ben…I can’t really get into this with you…” Callum said pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to move away from this entire conversation.

 _‘Best to soldier on then’_ he thought.

“Callum…I just want to know because Bianca came at me. I just want to know what to say, how to defend you” Ben says. “…Tell me how I can help, and I will”. “Let’s get our stories straight” Ben offered.

It made him weary to remember they were coming back to this, the many threads of lies they had spun before they started tripping on it themselves all those years ago. It ate at him constantly making him wonder if this was the only kind of affection life held for him. But if the situation called for it, he was more than happy to deny any interaction before the phone call. All kinds, the whole damn thing. No matter how painful it might feel ripping those precious things right from within his shattered soul.

“Listen… she just walked up to me in daylight and accused me of …affecting your family. Now help me understand so I can help you fix this. What does Whit know and how can we…”

“Ben. She knows.” Callum says just sounding, utterly defeated and trying to walk away.

“She knows what. That I called you? What??” Ben asked, not realizing his voice was a little louder than he intended to in the half-worded conversation that was happening right now. It was pulling at his skin. Sure, Callum had shared their interactions just before the wedding, but… she couldn’t have known… about anything else.

Or…

“Ben… I don’t know how, but she knew more than…she’d let on.” Callum paced a bit, needing the space.

“She said she’s taking Tim away from me. That ‘we’ were done. She said she’s taking everything from me. You should have seen her. She looked like she could’ve killed me given the chance…” Callum says, sounding more tired than he’s ever heard him. Too ashamed to look up at Ben. “Listen, thanks for dinner but I…I’d like it if you’d…”

That's when Ben realized what it all meant. Ben… wasn’t ready for that. This level of exposure. Was Whitney talking to people about this. He needed to talk to his family first.

Callum wanting him to leave stung too, but he felt violated knowing someone knew his deepest darkest secret. Someone he hadn’t given the permission to know. He had questions… but. It all didn’t matter. Suddenly, Bianca’s slap seemed like an underwhelming reaction. His insides churned in a strange way realizing that now more people than Whitney knew and probably accused him rather than goody two-shoes Callum, the hero of the square. He wondered if… his mother knew. Or the rest of his family that was looking for any excuse to shun him.

“Callum…I...” he said, as he grabbed his wallet and rushed out the door.

Callum just stood there, nodding absent mindedly. The memory of a clueless man he’d loved and lost, standing there in his own shattered home.

Ben… wasn’t ready for that. This level of exposure. Callum wanting him to leave stung too, but he felt violated knowing someone knew his deepest darkest secret from the past few years. Someone he hadn’t given the permission to know. He had questions… but. It all didn’t matter. Suddenly Bianca’s slap seemed like an underwhelming reaction. His insides churned in a strange way realizing that now more people than Whitney knew. 

He wondered if… his mother knew. Or the rest of his family that was looking for any excuse to shun him.

“Callum…I’m so sorry…I..” he heard himself say

Ben was already at the bottom floor getting off the elevator after hurriedly wiping his tears when he realized he wasn’t wearing the jacket he’d come with. It was still on Callum’s dining chair. He turned to head back up, but then the Elevator doors closed, heading straight up higher than Callum’s floor. He didn’t feel like he could face Callum again tonight. Maybe he’d slip in to go get it again later. Or something, he just knew he needed to leave. And not look back.

\--------------------------------

He’d set his mind to it, so he was here. Callum told himself he’d try his luck the next day in person, and so as Sunday came, he came down to Albert square and made his way down to a familiar home that used to welcome him with open arms.

 _‘Fuck the messages and the politeness!’_ he had thought hours ago as he’d cleaned up the mess in the house dreading Whitney coming back and finding it as a dump. They worked through so much to get to here, he wasn’t willing to let this slide over in Whitney’s very deserving way just because she thought she knew things. He was too damned good at hiding the truth to be outdone by a homemaker that moonlighted as fashion designer. He just wanted to speak to Whitney and take her and his son back home. He was confident if he were given the chance, he could convince her much like he had done several times. He was good at it. Selling her the story, looking straight into her eyes, and building a foundation that they’d built a decade and a half together. Even if they didn’t come home today, the seeds would be sown of what he wanted. He was so sure.

They had the perfect life. Everything about them was picture perfect. The photo frames across the house proved it. He was going to show Whitney he was ready to fight and prove to her this was the most important thing to him no matter what she thought she knew.

And that’s how he’d ended back up at Walford, in front of her family home; They'd been overjoyed to have Dot's home to call their own finally. Stuart had offered his support when he'd spoken last, but Callum had to try really hard to explain to him the sensitivity of the situation and how it seemed best if Callum went alone. He’d walked over the short fence and He’d tapped on the door and heard Tim yell ‘Daddy’ and look through a window, before being pulled away hopefully not too strongly. Callum couldn’t believe his eyes and ears of seeing him and just wanted to speak to his still-legal wife and son. Mick had showed up almost immediately as his first attempts of seeing his wife and son were denied by her family members, some of whom had made themselves visible out the windows of the upstairs and living room before shutting the curtains.

“Callum, son, listen. Don’t make a scene here. It won’t help you in the long run...” Mick had spat through gritted teeth trying to wrangle Callum from this front door. “…Think! She’s angry and hurt and not being sensible right now. No matter how hard you want to break through that door. Think of Tim!!” He’d said as Callum almost pushed through the man.

“Mick that’s all I’m thinking of! I want to speak to my Wife and my son!!” Callum tried, hopefully speaking to his audience on the other side of the black wooden door he could easily kick down. Then Bianca pulled a scraggy lace curtain away to sneer at him.

“Go back to your boyfriend Callum” She’d said before dropping it back down. And that’s when Callum realized what stood in front of him was just another door he’d have kicked down in his line of work. Bianca was just a bully egging him on, like a perp from behind a metal fence. He’d taken on the mafia and hardline criminals with just his common sense and wits. This would be… too easy almost. His anger mixed with the adrenaline, and he closed his eyes and willed himself into a cool even, but loud tone.

He had all the ammo he needed. He’d mulled about all the facts at the back of his head long enough. He just realized; he could use it now.

“This is getting ridiculous Whitney! You took my sleeping son & left in the middle of the fucking night days ago and yes you did tell me where you went, but this still counts as kidnapping and remember I am a police officer with a clean record and no prior offenses. If I call the police saying you kidnapped my son... Who do you think they will side with…”

The door opened with such force that Callum barely had time to get a proper stance as Whitney launched at him.

“You vile piece of shit! Don't you dare touch my son!!”

She’d landed a good few punches in, and he couldn’t help hoping it bruised as he willed himself not to react or defend. It almost felt like relief when the fifth shot she landed was a good kick as Mick finally managed to jump to his aid in front of him, he’d managed to see Whitney being dragged by so many hands behind her, her scream barely muffled by Bianca.

He was on the floor laughing a little maniacally as Mick forcefully lifted him up. Triggering pain across his chest and face as the skin stretched.

He had more than enough visual evidence he’d needed to claim this assault in his favor.

“YOU JUST FUCKING GAVE CALLUM ALL HE NEEDED YOU STUPID WOMAN!!” Bianca screamed.

And she was right.

He dialed 999 as he helped himself up.

“Hello, I would like to report an assault. 25, Albert Square. Domestic Dispute involving child. Code 11 from Officer Highway, Callum from East London S.O.C.I.T. as A.P. and…” Callum continued aiding the responding call handler with all the information off the top of his head he’d made himself sound feeble and frail at points and the responder asked if he needed an ambulance.

He thought why not. He hung up, his chest feeling heavy.

He’d been tolerant of her popping off at him. Even the punches at him. Lord knows all the other punches and shots he’d allowed her in their almost, decade and a half long marriage to her. They were good together, but he excused the bad, because he’d deserved it. He felt he’d deserved every punch or slap he’d ever gotten from her, even though the had been without incident for many years until recently.

He’d spent his entire life softer than butter, but when he took his current job for Whitney’s and his marriage, as well as Ben’s safety he realized he couldn’t be that guy anymore. He realized, that was the problem. He was the problem. The Callum they knew couldn’t put criminals behind bars whilst pretending to be their right hand. Sure, he drew on a little acting and lying for his small rolls in getting confessions and evidence, but his best experience sadly drew from all the things he had to do during his affair. He decided this was his penance. For ruining two lives for as long as he did, in his cowardice and indecisiveness. Guess he was a Highway all along, just like his dad and his brother. Finally, he hoped he’d made them proud.

He turned around to Mick now pulling him back away from the house by the elbow, to just right outside the small picket fence. Callum just realized they’d drawn an audience from the surrounding houses, but he didn’t care right now. He’d developed a thick skin long ago, or at least he hoped people believed him, even though last night’s dinner was all he had to chuck out from the knots his stomach seemed to be in.

His mouth pooled with liquid; blood probably from where Whit had connected with his gums. He spat it out with no regard to public decency. He quickly also tried to take as many selfies as he could.

“Callum… are you seriously going to have the mother of your child arrested right in front of him over your petty squabbles between you two.”. It hurt to realize that Mick rarely called him by his name, and this had to be the occasion. He looked him straight in the eyes hoping even he wouldn’t discount him ever again.

He wasn’t ‘halfway’ about this anymore.

“YES! I will do whatever the FUCK I want IF IT GETS ME MY SON!” Callum said, loud enough so that anyone who doubted him could hear. But just as he’d exhausted what seemed like the last of his energy for the day, he hoped the loud crying he could hear coming from within the house wasn’t his son.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

[You left your Jacket. I dropped it off at your dads. – 2pm].

He read the message and it’s blinding white background quite painfully aware he wouldn’t be at Phil’s to pick it anytime soon. Slipping his phone into the pocket, he was almost relieved he didn’t have to see Callum anytime soon. But still. He turned to bury his head under the other pillow on his bed hoping it hid him from his heavy thoughts and everyone else; everything else. The space cooler than the other. He knew he’d be more comfortable with his clothes changed, but he’d flopped onto the bed just a few hours earlier still smelling like the club he’d been at, too pissed to function. He thanked God he’d chucked whatever Indian there was left right on his mother’s doorstep.

He’d heard a cop car and what seemed like an ambulance in the distance go off, just as sleep called to him again. But suddenly he was being pulled by his leg with no room for discussion.

“Wake the fuck up! Something’s gone down with Whitney & Callum. The police and an ambulance showed up at Bianca’s door. Did you know Whit was back at the square? I didn’t even know...” Jay had said some more information but he’d missed… honestly a lot of it.

Jay slapped his face awake. Probably realizing he was off his rocker at the moment on drugs and booze.

“Jay…I’m really…really…drunk…still” he managed touching his soft, soft, hurting face.

“Ben. Pull yourself together. Full on drama at the Jackson family home. Callum called the police on Whit. Turns out she’d taken his son and come back home without telling him where they were going or something…”

Wait a second.

“Callum son. I knew that part...Me” Ben managed, before realizing he needed to be helping. He tried standing up, only for Jay to unceremoniously push him back on to the bed.

“Oh sod off. You are clearly in no state. Sober up and call me. Kathy! He’s…” Jay had said, just as Ben felt a great need to rest back down on the bed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were seated in a public waiting area in front of Walford Medical's emergency room number four. It was an eerily similar care unit to the one he’d last seen Ben in and he’d been in. Or was it the same? Then there was the fact he was seated with quite the team of experts now.

The ambulance had insisted on checking every bruise and making sure he had no concussion with scans when he didn’t seem that steady on his feet. That’s probably the time when Phil Mitchell had walked over to him with Jay. Jay tapped the older man and asked him to do something, which resulted in him reaching for his phone and walking back to where he came from. Jay continued over, explaining that he’d told his somewhat of a father-figure to call their lawyer. The legendary Richie Scott, at his service. Seemed a bit much, but Jay mentioned how they owed him this at least.

Callum tried to deny even needing one, But he was getting weary of it all after having reported his own wife for the assault he’d practically called in. He steeled himself again, straightening up inside the van he was sitting in. He wasn’t changing his mind. Best case scenario he gets to manipulate Whitney into speaking to him and letting him see Timmy. Worst case scenario, they begin the legal proceedings to… secure Primary care. He looked over to the policeman taking statements from those inside the house, now that they were done with Mick.

This was the only option left to him.

The Mitchells had both arrived with the promised Lawyer, and now waited with him as his results from the scan were expected.

“If you do this…” the slight hesitation in her voice annoyed him. “…Mr. Highway there is no way you two could come back from this. Nothing short of a miracle really.” Richie Scott mentioned.

“Mate…I would say try talking to her one more time.” Jay shared, arms crossed, face grim.

“I tried Jay…” He really did. He’d given her days to come to her senses.

He knew that Child services were called to evaluate the situation and establish that Tim wasn’t in any harm from Whitney. This would be the first time she’d been reported on a domestic violence charge, and that at a police officer (who was off duty) was assaulted. They’d prefer to keep Tim safe with his family, if not they would’ve taken him into their care until something could be done tomorrow – as today was still Sunday.

The time was a little past 7pm, going by the watch on Callum’s hand.

“Do it.” He said. _‘Threaten her with an assault charge. Remind her she stood on shaky ground with her accusations. Scare her with her son being taken away from her and bring her to talk to me.’_ It seemed fool-proof for now, even though he’d pieced together most of it in seconds. Maybe this would work.

Richie sighed, and left with Phil Mitchell.

“…Do you honestly expect to head home and live your best life after this Callum. You can’t be that much of an idiot now.” Jay said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I just need to talk to her Jay” he said, letting the cool of the wall seep into his throbbing head. He was in too deep to consider another avenue.

“Well… I’d like to see you pull a rabbit out of this shitty hat” Jay said in disdain, getting up and walking away.

Callum knew all the avenues available to him. He had to try all of them.

His boss was calling again. Needing a distraction, Callum answered with the conversation ever so ready to roll from his lips. He’d been notified that Callum had called in the offense with his ID. He’d wanted to know what was going on. Asked Callum if he’d needed him there. Callum felt embarrassed to give him the relevant details to his family life, but… he needed his boss’ support for whatever came next. And the union, if necessary too. The police were blindly loyal in certain things, and even though the Walford Police who’d arrived at the scene seemed a little taken aback how a Serious Crimes & Investigations Division copper had gone down without any defense, they turned a blind eye seeing through what the potential end result could be.

It was a Hail Mary, as they would say.

He didn’t want to admit defeat, or give into the feeling this felt so wrong, so so wrong.

\-------------------------------------------------------

It took two coffees and a long shower to become coherent. He hoped his eyes weren’t as wild as they felt. Ben was rushing across the hospital to the oh-so familiar path that took him to the emergency rooms with Jay in tow. He’d passed Jay at the entrance just moments before he realized Jay had shouted his name trying to help him get to Callum. In his current state, Ben decided an escort/guide would be better and faster, before he ran around in a haze any further. He'd almost napped in the cab ride over here.

“Ben…” He’d turned to look, as his feet were still moving in the perpendicular direction to where he’d heard his name. Callum was seated in his hospital regulated robes with a bruised jaw and split upper lip.

“Wow remind me to never piss of Whitney…” it was still the alcohol, Callum looked ready to kill him, Jay smacked the back of his head.

“You should see his X rays though.” Jay added, taking a seat next to him.

“Why are you not on in a room.” Ben was taking stock, he couldn’t help touch his face. Callum was not making eye contact. He visibly relaxed as Ben grabbed him by his chin and raised it, making him close his eyes.

“They asked me to wait in the room, but it’s so unnecessary…” Callum offered. “I’m fine” opening his eyes to look at Ben.

Ben remembered how the blue of his eyes were just magical sometimes, especially in the kind of white light like this.

“Listen lads…Now’s not the best time for all this.” Jay said, clearing his throat.

They’d forgotten Jay was still there. Jay had always been there.

When Ben had been at the tail end of one of his first acting out sessions, Jay had caught them in an intimate moment and asked Ben to spill with no room for tall tales. It was such a relief there was someone besides Stuart who knew about them; someone who wasn’t willing to crucify them for it, at least later on.

Ben sighed and took a seat next to Callum.

“You seemed to be taking plays from the Mitchell handbook Callum…” Ben mentioned bitterly, suddenly aware of the heavy weight of his head, and the awfully grey green linoleum floors hospitals seemed to be so fond of. If the roles were reversed, people would not even bat an eyelid – this was such a Ben move. He was almost impressed. “Jay filled me in on your stunt, and what you’re hoping to achieve…”

It was desperate. Foolish. Somehow calculated and yet, so flawed. It was something he’d take great pride in doing to an enemy, or someone who’d stand in the way of him and Lexi. But to know Callum… who’d once found it hard to be anything but sincere, doing it. Was devastating.

“Mr. Highway?” A doctor evidently, inquired from the three of them, breaking the mood. A nurse in tow with large reports was quick to be lost next to them.

“That’s me” Callum had said, and the doctor mentioned that there was an examining room that he needed to follow them too. Callum had turned exasperatedly and told them to stay in their seats.

“You guys are still at it aren’t you Ben.” Jay asked, still watching him watch Callum walk towards the consultation room they’d opened for him.

“Honestly…no.” He said, that lie so easily rolling off his tongue. Or in reality, not necessarily a lie, because they weren’t ‘at it’ as they’d only engaged in texting or calling if at most over the past few months. Well, except for that midnight tryst he’d indulged in even though he’d planned on killing him. Ok injuring him, at most.

“Ben…that look says otherwise” Jay added.

He’d bribed the doorman and made his way up right through the front door that night. He’d wanted to use one of the pistols in Callum’s fake order to finish him off in a way of poetic justice, but the knife was more the M.O of a youngish thug in London now, sort of a robbery gone wrong in-haste kind of crime; if he’d insisted on tying up this long overdue loose end. A loose end that seemed to keep taking him to bad decisions through endless bottles of bottomless alcohol and straight back to Callum. The one man who he could never not circle back to no matter how many nameless bodies he’d try to bury himself under. Callum was the closest thing to love he'd felt or allowed himself since Paul. It was so difficult to let go of. Sometimes he drank to forget it, sometimes he drank to reminisce, sometimes just to not think. God knows a few innocent men tried to fix him and help him forget along the way, but … Ben wasn’t interested. There was only Paul before, there was only Callum now... no matter how he tried to be done of him.

He was reminded of when he woke up in a hospital bed in the same place. For a long time he’d wanted revenge when he’d woken up alone in this very same hospital. They had induced a coma to help him recover from a brain swell he’d pretty much self inflicted by smart-mouthing yet another gigantic patron of the Prince Albert. And his special friends who’d come back a bit later to help. He’d been aching from seeing Callum & Whit that same day at the minute mart, living their best lives shopping for last minute groceries for a special meal Callum was going to make her. It was also eerily close to Paul's death anniversary. Whit had yet again volunteered how Ben’s time would come soon to do the same, not realizing just a few days ago Callum and he had already lived out her special night-in and furiously made love right on the kitchen counter. Callum had been especially randy with the thought of them being in view from the apartment across. Her husband seemed to blush at the same thought. That's also when Ben realized, Callum was recycling the romantic idea for Whitney. Or he'd tested it out on Ben only to offer it repackaged with improvements to Whitney just after. It made for a bitter taste in his mouth. A vengeful mouth to begin with.

“If only you knew darlin’ the fantasies I get to live out including that one…” He’d said to her, only to watch Callum hurry her off, turning uncomfortably pale. He’d decided that moment that a bottle of Jameson was his only solution to this cruel situation they’d found themselves in; Callum feeling like he owed Whitney the best life, Ben living his best life only to be Callum’s dirty little secret.

Whispers & rendezvous were amusing at first, knowing just how much it tormented the Square’s resident war hero. But the more their interactions grew to encompass who Callum truly was, Ben realized those secret whispers or moments of truth he’d share with Ben vehemently arguing the merits of his closeted life… that was the real Callum. Not the perfect lovable fool act Whitney and the rest of his fan club believed. Watching him buckle under the weight of the perfection he’d tried holding himself up to, was like watching himself only a few years back struggle to be himself, accepted, loved at least by himself, live up to the unrealistic expectations his father and idiot brother placed on him. It was like looking in the mirror. Yet, he seemed still pure. Needing someone like Ben who’d be willing to get his hands dirty for him. Show him he’s worthy.

But that Callum was not this Callum. Ben wondered how much of this was his own doing. A Callum vindictive enough to go after the same woman he’d been willing to sacrifice his own happiness for just over a decade ago. It seemed all too late to do anything about what they set into motion from the very first time his lips touched Callum’s.

Ben didn’t even know where to start.

\--------------------------------

“So in summary, you have nothing major to worry about. Just the bruises, especially internally which should fade soon & no concussion like we’d initially been worried about. The scans were all normal as I said, but I would like to advise you to take the day off tomorrow…just to let yourself be observed for any further symptoms or complications” The doctor confirmed what he’d felt.

“Thank you, Doctor. Could I pick up your official diagnosis in letter form, as well as one for work. Just in case I need it.” Didn’t hurt to be thorough.

“Not to worry Mr. Highway… we will be submitting a copy to the case file at Walford PD, since you were brought in on connection with an ongoing investigation…for domestic violence” The doctor confirmed, a little shocked at the end.

Callum was happy to be given the chance to put his clothes back on, even though he’d almost refuse to put his shoes back on with socks. He walked out of the consultation room to nervous looks from Ben & Jay.

“Nothing wrong boys, just a few bruises.” He assured them. Ben seemed to relax visibly, grabbing his head. He’d arrived smelling like a lot of alcohol hadn’t left his system again, but just enough sobriety to be conscious somehow, and affectionate. Painfully affectionate.

Being in public and being affectionate still unnerved him.

And especially now, with everything going on.

Also why was Ben drinking again. He'd never seemed like he'd reach for a bottle like that in Australia. Was it yesterday that triggered this.

“Ben… thank you for coming but…I…” he said turning to him. He really looked like he needed some rest.

“Nonsense. Let’s get you dressed and home” Ben offered, coming to his feet.

 _‘How do you politely tell the man you’re cheating on your wife with, he should go home so you could sort shit out with your wife’_ Callum wondered, raising his hand to his face, reports and letters under his arm, painfully aware he’s in just his briefs under an oversized shirt.

“Oi… he needs us gone for him to sort things out with Whit. We put a plan into motion whilst you slept off your adventure last night remember. She could show up here for all we know. Richie went to arrange it whilst you were on your way here” Jay added, reading his texts.

 _‘Sometimes, the bluntness of friends is better’_ Callum mused. Ben looked crestfallen.

“I’ll text you Ben…” he said. Ben stood up shakily and smiled a grim smile, dragging Jay with him forcibly only allowing him time to wave.

Somewhere between wishing he’d asked for Ben’s help with his pants and debating pressing a call button, his phone rang.

[Meeting at 10am tomorrow. Vic. She said she’ll bring a lawyer too – 8.42pm]

He’d gotten his wish. He wished for neutral ground like a lawyer’s office, but there was some comfort in it being at the Vic. Especially on a day and time the pub was closed. Now to plan out every word that was to leave his mouth.

\---------------------------------------------

Ben had closed the door to his room and decided to bang his head in a consistent manner against it.

 _‘It wasn’t personal. He was just needing to sort through shit’_ Jay had mentioned as they had exited the hospital together. Almost knowing Ben needed to be reassured.

He was tempted to go pick up another bottle of alcohol, but thought the better of it, already feeling the repercussions of his last night’s misadventures setting in. He drank till he finished all the cash he’d had on him, and he’d come with a lot of cash. Or at least enough cash to keep him going till about 4am in the morning.

He craved Callum. It was an ache in his bones. To be held and squeezed in his arms until he could feel like he couldn’t breathe.

His phone pinged.

[Just left the hospital. Heading home. I’ll call you in a bit. – 9.40pm]

And after his second time reading it, the message disappeared.

He tried to find his charger to make sure he wouldn’t have an issue walking about as he like to on a phone call, almost stumbling over a sandwich left on the counter near the bed. Probably by his mother. She’d mentioned he’d have to help himself to in the fridge when he’d walked in, but she might have brought it up with his coffee and he’d forgotten all about it.

[Sure. No pressure. – 9.44pm]

He wasn’t sure what this conversation was going to be about. But he craved the contact.

He flopped back onto his bed with a loud thud. In the short span he’d decided to be drunk and pass out, Callum had set out to brashly burn down his idyllic family life. Maybe he could apologize his way out of this. Maybe Callum was finally ready to start being true to himself.

Ben was reminded of their cycling arguments they had never resolved. At some point they’d silently agreed to disagree and give into the intimacy. No words, no labels… just a physical relationship with some unwilling emotional depth. Callum refused to accept his gayness at the core of it. He couldn’t even say the word ‘Homosexual’ in all those years they’d shared moments talking about things. Leave alone acknowledge he and Ben were having an affair. He’d called them ‘mates’ a couple of times and that had set off Ben on a violent spree of self-destruction several times. Ben had to face the harsh reality that Callum was never going to see them as a relationship of any form, or even admit to himself that he was gay. Even now it seemed impossible.

Ben had long given up hope on them being something out in public. Legitimate in some sort. Even with the times he’d manage to move a hookup to the second or the third time, he couldn’t stop thinking about Callum as much as Callum was drawn to accosting him in dark alleyways and parked cars, even when he was on a date. Ben couldn’t count the amount of times he’d begged Callum to leave Whit’ for his own sake; he’d given up hope on Callum doing it for Ben. He just wanted Callum to not loose who he was just to keep someone else happy.

Then there was walking up in the ICU. Alone. Callum nowhere in sight. He’d called, he’d left messages. He’d searched. Then Jay handed him a letter as he’d been released from hospital. Ben tried to forget almost the entire memorized letter for most of the past ten years.

_‘…I felt leaving Walford now before I cause you any more harm was the best thing I could do for you.’_

_‘…Ben you and I do not bring out the best in each other…’_

_‘…I want to focus on giving Whit’ a good future as my wife and you’ve always pulled me in the opposite direction…’_

_‘…I can’t call what I did loving you. I can’t say I didn’t feel encouraged to explore a part of me I’d buried for years. But that’s not me…’_

_‘…you deserve better than being my dirty little secret…’_

He could almost recall how his ‘t’s looped so unnecessarily. How he’d written on ruled paper like some 1950’s pen pal. Some strange idiot writing to his wife he’d left behind. Ben couldn’t stand to look at the letter anymore, or find it rummaging in his things. He’d set it on fire just before leaving for London, or for whatever his new life held for him across the UK. He’d been offered a place on an international operation moving cars all over Europe. Then being a middle man between his contacts and surplus goods gave him mad commissions. A few apartments, shoddy cars, guns at one point, drugs at his lowest. He’d amassed a wealth of contacts and enemies too.

He’d switched to Mitch of all names, just to maintain his father’s level of respect in the game. Ironic that’s how he’d ended up being an informant in exchange for getting out of an issue with some enterprising Nigerian scammers. Well, until he’d run out of value to the London Police.

Callum was calling. He’d been lost in his thoughts for almost another hour.

“Hey…” they had both said at the same time.

“They give you something good for the pain?” Ben ventured trying to shake away the dread that had pooled at his chest only moments before.

“Just about. Honestly making me a little drowsy.” Callum had said.

“Some hash would honestly be a treat right now for you. It just turns the pain into pleasure in such a remarkable way.” Ben wondered if Callum was enough of a smoker to be a connoisseur now.

“Not for me Ben…Work does random testing sometimes. It has to be a calculated risk at best” Callum seemed disappointed about it.

“Maybe something for your Christmas holidays then. Santa might still think you’re a good boy by then” The jokes and smart lines always came easily to him. Humor was his greatest defense, Callum laughed, but it was quick and short.

“Listen…I’ve been meaning to…talk with you.”

Ben held his breath. This seemed important.

“…Seems like we’ve built a career of not talking about the important things, and…I don’t want this to be left unsaid…” Callum ventured. “…I love Whitney. I love my son, Ben. I can’t imagine a life without them in it.”

“And I’m sorry I came in between it” Ben ventured. Sincere. Pained.

“No. It’s not your fault. I… If at all Ben it’s all on me and my selfishness. My inability to deal with my reality…or something like that..” Callum laughed nervously.

 _‘Inability to deal with my reality?’_ Did Callum become a shrink whilst he was a cop somehow.

“Been reading self-help books have we?” Ben asked, nervously.

“Speaking to a psychologist actually…” Callum added nervously. “I’ve been seeing a therapist, actually. At points. It started off as a mandatory thing for work, but then. It all spilled out...”

Ben sat up in bed, keener on the conversation.

“Yeah?” Ben encouraged, as Callum went silent for longer than ten seconds.

“Yeah Ben. I never told you. Thank you, for being there for me. At the start of all of this. Putting up with my bullshit. It couldn’t have been healthy for you. Tracking you down proved difficult when I was ready for a chat. I couldn’t believe my luck running into you that day at the pub, when I found you. I wanted to speak to you about it and apologize for the mess I caused you with a little more depth, but you were in a state and…I was more than glad to see you again. And…” Callum went on. “The longer I waited, the harder it got. I’m sorry. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to say how truly…truly, sorry I am.”

“I took you home to help you sober up. So we could talk. So I could tell you what I’d rehearsed in my head for years. But…I couldn’t remember the words all of a sudden. It didn’t feel enough. I’m sorry… I wanted you to know I cared for you. But I didn’t expect to find you in the pub like that. It shook me.”

“Ben…”

It was at that moment Ben realized he hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Yeah… I… Sorry. S…I…” Ben didn’t know what to say. Ben…truly was speechless.

“I know you’d like to take this whole situation with Whit as your responsibility. But it’s mine. It’s all mine. I cheated on her with you. I could’ve said no to you at any time as her husband and a father. And… You don’t have any blame in this. Yesterday at the door…I just realized this situation was long in the making. Maybe Whit and I need some time apart to fix things… I want to talk to her, and she wasn’t letting me. So I took a drastic measure, and I’m ok with the consequences.”

Ben honestly didn’t know how to respond.

“Cal…I..”

“Listen Ben, thank you for everything. Even with your family loaning me Richie. I’m going to sort out this mess with Whit. Then let’s talk again ok.” Callum said. “Call you later yeah?”

Ben managed to agree. Not sure why… Callum’s honesty just shocked him. The phone call had ended awhile back.

Ben realized Callum was still focussed on getting Whitney back, so blindly. He asked himself why he still hung on Callum's every word when he should be clearly moving on. He reluctantly set out to see who was available on the dating apps closeby. It felt like two steps forward one step back with Callum. Ben had recieved an apology but Callum was... still being Callum about it.

\---------------------------------------------------

Callum woke up fresher than he’d felt in days. His left eye socket was sore, his lip was painful to touch, even though he reflexively licked at it quite often. His house seemed empty, and he admitted bitterly it was his own doing. He’d wished he’d had Ben’s company at least, or someones. He’d made a career of pushing people away so that Whit wouldn’t be threatened, and now he was alone without her as well. Confessing to Ben what he’d been wanting to say for months, or at least partially… felt like a load off his back, at least. Granted it was just an apology, but he felt Ben deserved that much. He couldn’t live with hurting Ben as much as Whitney & Tim. He was just along for Callum’s selfish ride.

He couldn’t get Ben looking rejected at the hospital out of his head, or that he’d caused it again. He vowed to fix it as soon as he could, and that call was probably the first of a few more calls he needed to make to Ben. Hopefully before he disappeared again. He hoped he disappeared at least. For Ben’s own safety.

Stirring his lemon tea, he wondered if it was time for a therapy session again.

He remembered how much of a blessing that week of mandatory counselling had been. He’d just come out of an operation with two casualties. It was a standard Psych evaluation that had painted him in a bit of a negative light. He’d responded violently to finding another officer kicking a transgender individual after being cuffed. The rest of his own team had to hold him down. There wasn’t an official report as long as he agreed to the counselling.

She was a short haired lady the counsellor. Very astute. Offering her services and following up. He’d only needed two sessions, and she’d signed off on his return to work, based on his exemplary answers – but she’d known there was more to it, and recommended they hash it out, explaining how these outbursts tended to only get more violent and more out of control in her experience and she’d hate to make that note on her report. She’d patiently listened as he’d shared his carefully crafted stories of prejudice, he’d seen back in Walford. He’d slipped up in a reminisce and mentioned Ben’s name, and she’d strategically picked at it at odd moments, until she knew more about their relationship than he’d honestly ever admitted out loud.

He’d continued to drop in for more private sessions – only too happy they could be covered by his insurance and off the concerns of Whit. He’d even been able to brazenly discuss his relationship with Whitney at times, learning he’d had it in himself to find the solutions and answers for their problems within himself if he’d only taken a moment to think and look deep within. It was that same introspection that now showed him, this was the way forward. And that’s how he’d ended up showing up at the Vic’ with a few moments to spare, Richie in tow.

“Mr. Highway… when you see her, you must let me do all the talking for you.” she said turning to Callum. He’d given her a weak smile. “Remember the objective here is to secure rights for your son. At all times. This is about your son. No matter…” She said.

“But I’d like a moment with her. After we had discussed all of this.” Callum asked.

“I’d recommend letting me and her lawyer be privy to the conversation. For both your sakes”.

He nodded as he pushed through the door. It kind of seemed like a dimly lit church with just the sun streaming in through the windows. Bright yellow sunlight diffused by the frosted glass. Mick was behind the counter with Shirley, giving him a menacing look. He’d need to talk to Mick soon, he mentally filed away for later.

“Alright Mick…can we sit over here?” Callum asked, plastering his most polite smile.

He gestured to a gentleman already seated with his back to them. Rather portly with greying hair he was growing out slightly long at the back. Not everyday you see a Lawyer with a mullet he guessed. He turned and gave a half smile, and reached for his phone.

“Mrs. Highway will join us in a minute.” He’d said as Richie and him exchanged business cards and pleasantries. Mick disappeared but Shirley stayed polishing a glass all too intently.

Callum felt pained thinking she’d might not be called that again after this. He took a seat at the opposite side with Richie joining him. It was the longest table at the pub. A six-seater with optional room at the head. Their legs would touch given this was an open day for the pub, but he gave himself some extra space by pushing the chairs back against the table they were next to.

Whit barged through the door. Wearing a black sweater and black jeans. Trademark Red hair tied up tight. She’d put in a little effort, but not extending to her eyes. No wing tip, this fine Monday morning. He opened his mouth to say something cordial, but decided against it with the menacing stare that seemed aimed at him. Bianca followed suit behind her not allowing the door to close, surprising him.

He remembered the scorching insult she’d thrown at him. It did get a rise from him, a rise they’d never expected.

“Bianca… such a lovely surprise” He’d almost forgotten Richie was next to him until she’d said that.

Callum averted his eyes down to the table as they sat in front of him. He didn’t want to ruin any chances he had left. He looked back at Whitney who’d been doing the same.

“We are here to discuss the terms of engagement between Callum and you, Whitney. Call it a mediation if you will. He understands there are… some concerns that stop you from returning to your home with your son. But as I said yesterday, Mr. Highway just wants access to your son, completely respecting your wish for space, as you two figure it out.”

She reached into her slim briefcase and pulled out a few folders.

“The documents before you encompass reports of yesterday’s tragedy, including the preliminary documents to charges we are prepared to press against you and follow through with jeopardizing your standing as primary care giver for your son. As this is still an active marriage...”

“It’s not. We are pressing for Divorce on the grounds of adultery.” The lawyer spoke, causing Whit to get a hardened and satisfying look he’d not known Whitney was capable of.

Callum’s heart sank.

“Divorce. You are going to put our Son through a Divorce for what…” Callum felt his righteous indignation was a bit much. He saw Bianca put her hand on Whit’s arm and take the stand.

“You weren’t thinking about what you were putting your son through almost having his mother arrested were you last afternoon Callum, so don’t give me that crap” Bianca spat at him. “Callum, I think it’s time to come to terms with the fact she’s done with all this bullshit. She told you, several times… she was not going to stand to…” She took a derisive breath “…to tango with another person and you in your relationship”. Bianca seemed downright smug to get that line in.

Callum felt the room get hotter than it should at that remark.

“Divorce on what grounds Whitney. I think you barely have enough ground to stand on with the assault” Richie added.

“Actually… Adultery. And I’m told the evidence is stacking up against him.” The lawyer piped up a hint of nervousness. Callum couldn’t help wondering where they’d dug up this character, and he was quite the joke, mullet, beard and bulging belly.

“Forgive me, was it Fredrick? What evidence might it be.” Richie added, not missing a beat.

“Call logs. Some eyewitness accounts…” he said, turning to Whitney and Bianca for more encouragement.

“Whit… you are not going to find anything. Because there isn’t anything…” Callum offered. “I…except for my own confession and Stuart being a witness to something twelve years ago. Which doesn’t even hold in court…”

“Statute of limitations Whitney…It’s only six years” Richie added, busying herself with the documents.

“You fucking cheated on me Callum, don’t you dare deny it. You and Ben… How could you even…” Whitney accused, finger almost in his face that was leant over the table.

Richie looked up at him at the mention of Ben.

“I’m sorry did you say Ben.. as in Ben M..” Richie asked, but was quickly drowned out by everyone else at the table.

“We’re just going around in circles Whit… You know I love you. I love Tim more than life itself...” Callum threw in, just as Richie rolled her eyes and changed course.

“Fredrick, are you even a lawyer because the British court of Law defines adultery between a married party and the opposite sex. You don’t have… shit.” Richie added quite dismissively leaning back to cross hands.

“I’m a lawyer alright..” He swallowed nervously, gathering papers in front of him.

“He’s not your son.”

“What…” Callum could feel something unchain itself, but he was not paying attention.

“Callum…” Richie held onto his hand a little tighter than he’d felt a lawyer should have.

“I SAID HE’S NOT YOUR SON!” Whitney screamed, standing up, sneering through her tears.

Everyone at the bar seemed to have something to add to the conversation now. Shirley seemed to notice the temperature rise in the room. There wasn’t a person at the Bar that wasn’t shocked at the revelation.

“…what…do…you mean he’s not my…” Callum found himself say barely above a whisper, never taking his eyes off of Whitney.

“He’s not your son Callum. But he’s definitely mine. And you’ll never see him again…” she said turning to walk out.

And Callum wasn’t sure how it had all happened. How he’d leapt across the table, his hand large enough to grab Whitney with one hand so tightly around her neck. He’d tried to get his other hand free, but someone was holding onto it. His eyes were fixed on the fear, ever so satisfying to see in her eyes as her face turned a shade of red he was quite satisfied by as his teeth grinded tight.

And that’s when he was punched in the face, out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-Dun! Special thanks to my sweet friend Kayleigh who helped so much with this chapter. God, I re-wrote this entire chapter a day later after hashing out almost 7k worth of needless words going nowhere. I hope i'm being true to our boys. Tell me how i can make things better! I never expected to be writing this story out like this, but here we are.


	4. Nothing Hurts Quite Like Someone You Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum & Ben, reeling from the weekend, reminsce and fill us in on the past. Then they do some soul searching and face some hard truths. Callum more so as he is confronted by the years of lies he's built for himself. 
> 
> SELF HARM AND MORBID THOUGHT WARNING!!  
> It's a necessary evil my lovely readers, please forgive me this bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter would not be possible without the sanin level of Beta'ing and constant feedback of KP - Go follow this mother Ballum Stan on socials. I also had the lovely @brokenspell77 give me such amazing encouragement practically overnight to get this chapter out today. It honestly takes a village, and @dingletragedy made some valid points about how writing Fan Fiction can be a thankless job sometimes. Please take a moment to go back on comment on really great stories you read! <3

The jetlag mixed with the Alcohol from the day before had finally balanced the scales of Ben’s body clock. He’d woken up a little close to nine still hungover and checked for messages from Callum on reflex. Rather disappointed by the empty inbox for the disappearing text app, he’d trudged downstairs in his robe only to find the Beale home completely empty for once. He couldn’t help reminiscing how years back, this revelation meant that it would be the perfect start to an interesting adventure, with a willing stranger of course. Tempting as it was to make the most of it by having the closest guy on a dating app show up, he felt the effort necessary was not worth the hassle anymore. Now in his early thirties he felt his priorities were different, Like coffee and toast in peace. He told himself it had nothing to do with how a certain police constable and his confession were fresh on his mind. Nothing to do with how that mattered to him at all.

 _‘Call you later, yeah?’_ He’d said last night. Callum had been the initiator for once.

Even after all this time, it gave him hope…something was there between them. But it was unrealistic. He shook his head hoping it brought him to his senses. He was still holding a candle for a man who couldn’t give him everything he wanted; Actually, not even a fraction, if he was being completely honest. Callum was still married, with a kid. And if yesterday was anything to go by, he was going to extreme lengths to keep this kid and maybe risk it all for his marriage. He was reminded quite a bit about the drama that went unfolded with Lola, Lexi, and his dad at one point. He was glad it was all over. More than anyone else, Ben had more to offer in experience to Callum, but…Callum seemed distant at best.

Ben settled in like most people do to scroll through social media while sipping his coffee. He realized in passing that while it was nine something here in England, it was just six in the evening on Sunday still, back in Australia. He thought to check on Lexi passing through a photo she’d posted, who was probably finishing some last-minute homework as usual. Lola however confirmed how she’d settled in with her bloke to watch an Aussie rugby game. They’d both texted for a bit with Ben and ended the conversation saying how they’d like him back soon. He assured them; he’d like nothing more.

He smoothed over his creasing robe, thanking whatever it was that gave him some semblance of something good and normal back in his life again. The years of looking over his shoulder and drinking to forget were slowly slipping away into memory. Well the drinking thing was… still a thing, but he was cutting down. But he really couldn’t wait to get back to being back in Australia, hopefully soon.

Even if it meant, he’d be miles…and miles away, from Callum.

He reminded himself of that unexplainable warm feeling that comes from knowing there is a home waiting for him in Australia. A _‘good feeling’_ ; Something he hadn’t felt in years. Life in Canberra now, with Lexi in her teens and Lola and him finally getting the chance to be proper mates with her current boyfriend in tow. He’d honestly planned on dropping by for an awkward catch up, on the way to his tailor-made disappearing act in Asia, but with each day he lingered on Lexi’s insistence… the universe seemed to conspire offering him an alternative solution, practically readymade.

With Callum’s tip off, Ben avoided a ten-year sentence just on the illegal sale of firearms. Add to the fact he’d be a repeat offender and other evidence and cases he might be tied to being brought up, the potential trouble, as well as the trouble that it could follow up the Mitchell family was scary as hell; Not to mention another decade on his sentence. He was very aware he owed Callum a whole lot more than just the family lawyer fees he’d told his dad just yesterday.

 _‘It was a favor money couldn’t buy…’_ Phil Mitchell had mused on the convenient escape Ben had enjoyed, or how he’d come to his dad’s rescue on behalf of Ben. Phil had inquired in his own way to the nature of their current status, weary at first having to owe a copper a favor. Ben jumped to make it explicitly clear it was a one-time convenient arrangement, a Business deal of sorts, lest his father get any ideas for abusing his connection to Callum. But Phil’s curiosity never died that easily, even though he was quick to change the subject to their current uneasy involvement with Russians in the square.

Another hassle… but thankfully not his problem anymore.

Changing gears, Ben wondered what he could do today to occupy himself till Jay was free without being out in the open as he finished his coffee. He was still a wanted man even though there weren’t posters of him on every notice board, especially in Walford. He didn’t want to be running into Whitney or any of her sympathetic fan club either. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with the scorn and insults anymore. He’d missed the familiar ache in visiting a gym every other day, so maybe a small session at the gym close by. Callum noticed how he’d put a little effort back into his appearance again, and that was motivation enough to maintain it; Even though it was just something he’d returned to, trying to fill the many hours in a day he wasn’t drinking or drunk anymore. The more he thought of it, the more he liked the idea of a small gym session before figuring out what’s next.

Ben liked the idea of Callum’s eyes noticing a little bit more of him. As he walked back upstairs for a change, he couldn’t help being a little excited that maybe he got to see Callum before he left in a couple more days, maybe he didn’t. Maybe they patch things up and…

 _‘But he’s Married…to Whitney. With a kid…’_ Ben repeated to himself. Hoping this would be the time he’d be deterred from Callum’s orbit. Ben just couldn’t help thinking about Callum the way he does. He was so tempted to find him and just throw himself at him just one more time and just hope… He slapped himself, mentally. He just could not think about all this again… It may be close to ten in the morning, but he was so tempted to find something to drink again instead. But Ben reminded himself it leads to him doing stupider things than just accosting Callum at his apartment, so he’d rather not keep repeating this pattern.

They were working through it. Callum was/is finally on the way out of his system. They were both in a good place, Ben was in a good place now, finally moving on.

He checked his phone for the other alternative, looking for a quick fix, instantly curious again about the new baby gays in the vicinity. He knew it would just be to clear his head… something completely physical. Just the first faceless body on the app closest to him. Preferably nothing remotely Callum like. So, he picked the closest guy that was… yes, definitely this dark shirtless body.

And that’s how he was letting in a strapping lad with a brilliant smile through the gate minutes later, his light-colored eyes just…entrancing up close. Ben couldn’t even think of any smart things to say as he grabbed him from the gate and made out furiously as it closed behind them. He was dressed in shirt with an undone tie and tailored pants. He was quick to push Ben against the wall as soon as his doors closed insisting, he’d like his clothes not to be crushed as he needed to head back to work. Ben was nervous about taking the lead, it had been a while…but his visitor’s stern, take-control attitude allowed for him to step into autopilot as they stumbled back into the house. They were both the same height but being on the higher stair allowed the visitor a little advantage.

And it was just a flash, of a familiar height difference.

But Ben pushed on. Speeding up the process of heading to his room. He’d no more closed the door and chosen to renew his enthusiasm when he’d been crushed in an embrace as something solid pressed into his back. It definitely had been a while since he’d felt a thrill like this. The nameless man leant in and whispered in his ear checking if the force was alright. Ben only had to nod in approval before kisses started trailing down his back. He’d been turned around again, and the nameless man was doing things he’d not had the pleasure of doing in…weeks.

He’d be lying if the man wasn’t just a physical substitute for all those memorable moments with Callum. How in quick ecstasy it was Callum’s mouth, Callum’s hands, Callum’s…

And the sudden end of a pleasurable experience was jarring. That’s when he realized his nameless visitor had said something. Again.

“The name’s James…mate.” He’d said.

“Yeah sure…” Ben said, as he tried to force his head down to where it was before.

“… You called me Callum… several times. Is that your husband or something?” He’d said, a little dejected. Making Ben feel strange things for that slip of his tongue.

“Sorry... thought you said your name was Callum. My mistake!” Ben said, quite familiar with how to recover and get the proceedings on the way. Ben wasn’t looking for an afternoon engagement. Just a quick distraction. Luckily, that was enough, to get Jack or James back on track as Ben closed his eyes again. But much like every other time he’d tried… this wasn’t going to be something that comes to completion unless it was a drunken misadventure. Ben pushed him off frustrated with himself, again.

“James… I’m sorry mate, I think you should leave.”

* * *

Callum’s first conscious thought was how much his face hurt, almost everywhere. He’d come to, at the Victoria public house from his ill-fated sit down with Whitney to Shirley herself trying to slap him conscious. He checked his watch and realized it was almost half past eleven as he sat up. He tried to touch his face, so aware of how much pain his jaw and nose now seemed to burn with, more than anywhere else. There was also…a tampon stuck into one of his nostrils as Linda fussed over him.

“Sorry Halfway, it was…” Mick seemed apologetic, “You weren’t quite listening to us, or the people you dragged with you across the room. Bloody hell!” Mick winced as the ice moved a little deeper into his bruising knuckles. “You’re a force to be reckoned with it seems…”

Callum didn’t realize the words that left his mouth as he tried to adjust to the pain radiating from his face with full force. He needed an aspirin and some ice.

“What’s that...” Mick had let his smarting fist blur his hearing amidst Shirley and Linda bickering. Callum had got off the table he’d been laid on, Pulling the stuffed tissue out of his nose. There was so much nostalgia about being here. He was sick of it all today. He was done.

“I said don’t call me Halfway again…” Callum had never corrected them about it. But now it was time to get the point across. He walked out hoping never to look back. He’d not been halfway for a while, but no one seemed to notice.

The words Whitney had spat out kept repeating in his head. But he refused to believe it.

“Is it true. Did any of you know about this… and keep it from me?” Callum asked, hoping his voice was even. Shirley joined him in looking at Linda and Mick as they both refused to make eye contact.

“I…I heard something but didn’t think of anything as Tiffany and Whit got into… Tim had a... Something hereditary, you didn’t have…” Linda volunteered, but Callum wasn’t paying attention anymore.

Tim was his son; same eyes, same hair… He refused to believe anything until he’d gotten to the bottom of this. A simple DNA test should suffice. But how does he just… get a sample. He’d need a swab. Even though there was hair… maybe at the apartment. He could buy a quick paternity test, at least a hundred pounds, but worth the price if it settled the issue.

“Do you know where Tim is…” Callum asks, from Linda and Mick tries to stop her from saying anything, but Linda’s guilty conscience gets the better of her.

“Whit had him dropped at school. But Callum…” Linda had shared before she could stop herself. Callum could pick him up from school, as the father he could… but then, he’d violate parental rights. Also, what if Whitney had informed the school not to let him in.

Mick got in his way. A stern look in his face he’d only seen Mick use with Phil Mitchell before.

“Half…Callum, I don’t care what Whit said. He’s your son still and this is how you lose him for good. You’re in a right state, you look like you’d been mugged by an army of hoodlums with that face. Think man…” Mick had shared, standing between Callum and the door.

Callum took a deep breath.

“My wife… of over ten years of marriage wants to divorce me, keep me from my son… or not my son. My wife just told me that he wasn’t my son. And you expect me to keep… you expect me. To. Think.”

“To hell with all that… to hell with all of you.” Callum said, grabbing Mick by his arm and tossing him across his bar in one fell swoop.

He turned to Shirley who seemed to have not moved or batted an eyelid in this entire episode. Linda was checking on Mick who’d taken a few chairs with him.

“Where’s Whitney” He asked more determined than he was before.

“She went back home” Shirley said, like it was the most obvious thing.

He pushed through the double doors and made a sprint across Albert Square heading for a familiar destination. There were people about and some bothered to smile, some stared on, probably caught up on his face like it was. He’d made it past the winding path and was at No. 25 again. His hand reached up to knock, etiquette dictated he knocked… but fuck it. Fuck it all.

He kicked the door in. The lock stayed in place as the aged blue wood just separated from it. He pushed through heard someone come down from upstairs just as he passed, but he didn’t stop to look. He was aching to have a gun in his hand like he normally would on an operation. He checked the living room and saw no one there, the kitchen had Bianca whiter than a sheet, trying to protect herself and Whitney using herself as a shield. Whitney still in tears right beside her, her neck a little reddened from when Callum had grabbed her, if he’d bothered to pay any close attention.

“Callum…” she’d weakly started.

Bianca was starting to spout nonsense, someone had rushed into the living room, but they didn’t seem to be wanting to interrupt what was happening here. He didn’t feel like moderating the rage in him. He banged his flat palm on the table making both the women in the room jump.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Whit, but… that was a low blow. It just can’t be. Tell me it’s a lie, let me see my son again, please… Tell me now. And I’ll leave... Or I just want to know the truth about Tim.” he’d said as Bianca’s trembling hands reached for her phone, Callum grabbed it and Whitney’s for good measure off the table and tossed them towards the sink. “Did you just want a rise out of me Whit. Did you…I won’t deny it didn’t hurt. But why use him Whit…”

“Callum he’s gotto be your son… I don’t believe her...” Bianca finished, in a weak voice as she tried to put some distance between them. She’d said a lot more, but that’s all his brain caught before Whitney had nudged her away from blocking her view.

“…How about you tell me everything Callum. How about you tell me the truth about you and Ben. He’s the fucking ghost that will never leave us alone!” Whitney spat.

“Whitney, I don’t know how many more times or in how many more ways I NEED TO TELL YOU THERE’S NOTHING GOING ON WITH ME AND BEN ALRIGHT. Not anymore…WHATEVER IT WAS… I LEFT IT HERE. WE LEFT IT HERE…” Callum, just losing his cool, losing the mask of self-control… but he had to steer it back, to his son. He tried to physically calm himself by hopefully wiping off the anger with the sweat now on his face. “Tell me how you think my son… that boy you and I raised together for the past five years is not my mine, Whitney…I swear…”.

“He’s not yours Callum… I know it as fact!” Whitney said, not even looking at him as she sat back down. It felt like a bullet to his head every time he heard it. It just didn’t make sense. She pushed passed him, heading to her phone lying in the aged ceramic sink. She picked it up and thumbed through for a few seconds, deathly silent… until Callum’s phone rang. She calmed herself, wiping her eyes and standing up, she had tapped into the same spiteful energy he’d felt at the Vic today, she turned to him, arms crossed.

“Check your email…” She said.

“What’s an email got to...” Callum asked, before he was cut off.

“You might not remember, but I had your blood collected to check for hereditary issues when we went for a checkup with Tim. When he was just a few months old. I had informed his doctor discretely I wasn’t sure you might be the father and she had it clarified privately from the same lab they use. You have some genetic markers… but you don’t have enough to be the dad. I just sent you the report I got...from years ago.” Whitney had said, her face looking out the window.

Callum wasn’t paying any attention as his eyes scanned through an ignorable document he’d found attached, again just to be sure what he read. It was a paternity test, saying sample ‘A’ comparison to the child sample was not the father. He wasn’t sure what he felt more horrified about… that Whitney knew all along, or that she’d maintained this lie for this long. He knew sample ‘A’ could mean anything, but it denoted his blood type and age, and that’s when he realized the next page had the same test code but sample ‘B’ someone older with a different blood type.

“There is another test there. With the actual father. He’s a 99% match to Tim.” And that’s when Whitney turned to him, arms crossed still with a bitter laugh on her lips. Callum just didn’t have breath left in him to ask the relevant questions he needed to ask next. Or think. His phone fell from his hands as he just realized he had no claim to Tim, ever. In one foul afternoon, Whitney had taken it all away from him. The idyllic life they’d built together. Callum had gambled and lost everything.

“He was someone I met through work. It was just once, and a mistake…” No, it just couldn’t be true. Callum registered some of the information, but he refused to accept it. He wiped his tears and stood up.

“No this can’t be true. I want another test.” Callum started, trying to keep his voice even. This could be a lie; this could all be a hoax just to stir him up and aid the divorce case. He knew all the people she got involved with, he practically co-signed the cheques and went with her to each event or sale. He would have known. Or seen, something. He couldn’t have missed this. He’d heard of things getting ugly, and things getting complicated right here in this god forsaken hell hole they all came from, but this really took the cake. He needed a levelheaded approach. He resolved to get to the bottom of this.

“This is all a lie. No…I don’t believe you would throw our marriage away like this Whit” Callum said. But Whitney screamed in frustration, reaching for the closest jar she could find and dashing it on the floor.

“Callum get out. You are so up your own ass… you can’t even realize what I just told you” She said, not even looking at him as she panted against the counter. “If you want another test, you can ask for it through a lawyer… I am done with you; I am done with our marriage. You came for Tim, and you lost.” She screamed for him to get out and lunged at him. But Bianca jumped in front of them and asked him to leave.

And even though Callum was ready for her with his own righteous rage, he left through the front door as swiftly as he could; not sure where he could or should go.

* * *

Ben had put grudgingly decided the gym was where he’d rather be at and gotten here only moments ago. Kathy had called halfway in asking where he was suddenly, Ben couldn’t help being a little suspicious.

“What’s going on mum?” Ben had asked.

“Someone had broken down the door at Bianca’s place…” She seemed hesitant about the rest. “…I heard someone say it was Whit’s husband Callum…But that’s so unlike him.”

“It’s always the quiet one’s mum…” Ben couldn’t help himself, a little impressed. But also realizing that whatever stance they had for the Divorce was much like the remnants of that door. Callum calling him be damned, he might as well call and find out what’s going on.

“Mum, I’m at the gym. I’ll talk to you…Wait… why did you call me about this…”

“…Well Ben, It’s no secret you’re…friends, with that man. And honestly, I was worried you’d done it” Kathy offered nervously.

“Thanks mum, your confidence in me is just… It gives me the courage to do what I do” He added wryly before cutting the line. Kathy wasn’t wrong at the insinuation.

Ending the call, He tried Callum, but the number was busy. Even though Callum had absolved him of the guilt, he couldn’t help admitting he’d laid a few cracks into that wall all on his own too. He was so tempted to head straight back over for a look at Callum’s handiwork, he could pass by it with his hoodie drawn just to avoid a scene, but Jay beat him to it with a photo as he finished his set.

[Takes popping off to a whole new level didn’t he – 2.06pm]

[He’d make a fine addition to our Christmas dinners Eh. – 2.06pm]

But now in hindsight, he felt a message was warranted to Callum.

[Hey… heard about the door. You all right? – 2.07pm]

He wasn’t surprised about having no response. He thought he’d give it a moment.

* * *

Callum had found his way to his car and got in and sat there for what felt like hours. His head heavy against the steering wheel from the altercation he’d just had with Whitney. They had every right to call the police, but he wasn’t remorseful, if at all he felt justified. He’d need to get his story straight and hopes the police bother enough to speak to Mick and find out about the events that lead to the breaking of that door. He told himself it was justified, and there possibly couldn’t be any major backlash. He’d have to talk to Richie about that. He groaned, imagining her giving him a telling off he deserved.

And now he was finally free to focus on the fact, Tim wasn’t his son.

He’d never felt like his brain could physically hurt like it did right now. He needed a moment, a speed induced run in his family safe car. And so, Callum started driving, heading in the general direction of the roads that took him back to his apartment more near to the city, almost the longer way home. There used to be something so cathartic about speeding and being on a long ride to clear his head. He just couldn’t seem to lose the dread and despair that just kept pooling low in his stomach. He tried to fight the fact he felt like he could puke everything he’s ever eaten in one go.

He synced his phone to the car and called his boss and said things were not going great, he’d need at least the day off with the family stuff. He seemed to understand a little too well about messy divorces, and told him to be back at work tomorrow, unless he wanted to take no pay leave. Callum considered the option as he ended the call as quick as possible. He focused back on the road, dropping his speed to a decent rate.

He’d woken up today with hope of a wife and son reunion, now there wasn’t any of it, possibly ever. A wife and son he’d fought so hard for this past weekend. Just the blind stupidity of how he’d driven straight towards this idyllic dream was so infuriating now. A wife, a flat to his name, a successful career… he soldiered on knowing he was doing the right thing by them, making them his world. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do, as a man and a father. Not like he had an example to follow, or a place to turn to for advice and help…well, there was Mick, but he felt he’d burned that bridge today. So, he was on his own.

His hand slipped on the steering as he got distracted, and for a second, he considered letting the car take him wherever it was meant to, whether it was off the road or into a pile up. He shook his head, but the anger and the disappointment just…made for a weird cocktail, made him bunch up his fists. He just ended up aggressively hammering the life out the steering wheel, wishing he could pull it out and toss it out the window. He’d punched at the dashboard next and the plastic protecting the dials shattered. Something eased as he drew blood, some errant scrapes across his fingers that didn’t bleed too heavily.

 _‘What was I honestly expecting’_ He asked himself. He’d wanted answers. And Whitney finally gave them to him. His brain kept flashing to all the ways Callum’s son seemed different to him. Were they the same blue his eyes were, were they the same dirty blonde… the way he preferred certain colors or had mannerisms he’d assumed were just Tim’s personality shining through. His distant gaze caught a street sign and that’s when he realized he’d missed his exit a few minutes ago, further frustrating him. He needed to keep going for at least another ten kilometers before he returned to the city now. He was going to have time with his thoughts for a little while longer; it felt like a prison sentence.

He wondered who he could speak to, when he’d made a career of distancing himself from everyone in his life, for their safety and his. But this was silly, he could talk to Stuart… Just a distraction would be nice. A small catch up… He’d scrolled and thought ‘yeah, why not Stuart’ as he was just about to press call, he’d ended up cancelling an incoming one.

It was Ben… Ben always had a way of popping up in moments like this.

But he couldn’t. He was hurting and he’d only drag Ben further into his mess of a life. He was learning to control his impulses even before Ben showed up again. He tried instead reaching for someone who was looking to help him right from the start. He didn’t have all the right words, but his heart was in the right place, and they were family. And so, he dialed Stuart again with a click.

“Yellow little brother…” The voice almost sang. It was so peculiar to see Stuart so cheery.

“You sound like you’re in a good mood…” Callum couldn’t help but match his tone, sniffling a little. Hoping he hid his own mood a bit.

“As good as I can be at a tea party! Christie says hello!” He forgot that Stuart takes halfway off on a Monday so he could spend a little more time with Rainie and their daughter after play school let out.

“…What’s going on? What happened with Whit?” Stuart asked, probably extricating himself from a tiny chair set up next to a tiny tea set and coffee table. It was just comical to just even imagine.

“Yeah…” Callum had the chance, come clean and get some support. But Stuart was busy.

“Nothing major. Whit wouldn’t budge. Listen let me call you later tonight. I’d give you the full update. You have fun with Christie. Give her a hug for me.” Callum cut the line before he could change his own mind. He just had flashes of Stuart steamrolling him for answers he didn’t want to say out loud. They’d probably end up at Ben anyway like they used to.

Stuart was Whitney’s biggest advocate, especially when the alternative was Ben. It had been a souring point in their relationship for a long time as to how antagonizing Stuart had been towards Ben, especially after the wedding. They’d had several altercations and he’d threatened him with bodily harm so many times Ben wasn’t even telling him about it after a while. It had taken the promise of calling the cops himself on Stuart to lay off the topic firmly. He wasn’t in the mood for someone to be singing Whitney’s praises right about now.

He’d fought so hard to keep it together with Whitney. All for the sake of his vows and his marriage to Whitney. Even when they were slowly slipping out of love, they had a son together. A son they nurtured and watched as he grew every day a little bit more into a person just like the two of them. Someone who he thought was his own flesh and blood, a connection he’d felt so sure of from the moment his tiny body had been handed to him wrapped in a cloth barely keeping him warm.

 _“And now it was all over…”_ Thanks to the both of them.

He just drove back to his neighborhood, almost on autopilot. He’d parked the car in its usual spot on the street and rested for a moment, clearing away plastic shards onto the rubber carpet beneath his feet, So all he had to do was dust the rug into the recycling. He braced himself after, preparing himself to walk back up to his empty apartment. An apartment he’d have to open the door to, physically walk into the house, and evaluate his next few steps.

He remembered his lawyer having left a message.

“Callum, that was a foolish thing to do. They have every same right you have to press charges against you. You’re only saving grace was that your son wasn’t on the scene. Please call me we have a lot to figure out for next steps. The adultery charge wouldn’t hold, but they have other ways of coming at it. She could claim…” Callum had tuned out almost a sentence back. He just couldn’t wait to hear her response to him kicking down the door.

He took a deep breath. This divorce was happening. He realized now he had to come to terms with that. He was tired of fighting today. He’d spent so long lying to her, lying to himself that everything would be ok, that she’d been lying to him too. A part of him realized he had no right being this angry at her when he had his own secrets. Secrets in thoughts, and texts and kisses that almost seemed like Whitney was no more hurtful than him. Possibly less… and if she knew, totally justified. With a heavier heart now with that guilt, he got out of the car.

Yes, it was over. The divorce was really happening. And if he was being honest with himself, there was a sea of relief deep down there beneath the sadness and the pain.

He’d texted Richie saying he’d get in touch soon as he walked into his apartment building. He started flipping every photo that stared at him, taunting him with the life he used to live. His brother was starting to call incessantly, probably realizing something was up. He texted saying he’d call in the evening. And almost on reflex, as he worked through his notifications… he found that little disappearing text app, hidden within a folder, with a notification from Ben.

[Hey… heard about the door. You all right? – 2.07pm]

[Photo – 2.08pm]

[I’ve got no plans for tonight. You want to talk? – 3.15pm]

Callum couldn’t help but smile reluctantly. It was a funny photo, an emoji pasted over his now athletic looking body. Ben must’ve gone to the gym close to the square, like he used to. The background seemed oddly familiar. Callum quickly sighed reminding himself that this wasn’t the time to be lost in photos by his… Ben. It was meant to be funny, but Ben couldn’t ever hide how attractive he looked in gym attire again. The photo had six seconds left, and it was gone… much like the rest of the media he’d send.

Callum remembered how at first it was just texts. Then with a little boldness it was just… random things Ben would send as photographs or videos. If Ben knew he was at work, or in a position to see it instantly, Callum was sure to see his face or Lexi’s. If not, it was just random things like Ben’s desk at work. A new car that he was pushing this week. His favorite pub back in Australia. A fleeting glimpse as things needed to disappear.

But they all seemed to be etched into Callum’s memory permanently – the only safe space for them.

Photos of random dogs, landmarks, times with Lexi, times out with Lola and…who Ben had insisted was Lola’s new man. Not that he had asked. He’d never admitted liking the ones where Ben had braved sending his face not hidden either. Ben smiling, the years off his face slowly disappearing. On occasion a slightly risqué photo that Callum didn’t allow himself to respond to, fearing he’d be treading into dangerous territory even though they had oceans and continents apart.

He blushed even now. For the most part he tried to reciprocate with tea mugs, random things like cars and sunsets, or selfies where he was way too self-conscious to make them be great. He still burned with embarrassment at one he’d accidently sent in a hurry where work had wanted him, only to have Ben mock him mercilessly all day.

Him and Ben; there was a relative ease to them. Him and Whit – there was definitely love, but it was different. Callum didn’t know what he felt now about the realization. He just realized he was definitely beyond ashamed in hindsight Whit and he had brought up his sexuality into discussion again with Bianca in the room. He felt embarrassed now, being laid bare to a person not allowed to know things like that about him. Callum also realized the Whitney he knew had changed. He was baffled by her being so spiteful, distrusting and even sometimes violent with him.

His phone screen came back on with a new message distracting him.

[Have you eaten? – 3.44pm]

Callum couldn’t believe he’d left Ben unanswered all this time.

[Hey! Sorry about not replying sooner. I’m ok. Just dealing with some stuff. Call you later? – 3.44pm]

[Yeah… I’ll grab something. Probably make something. Staying in. – 3.45pm]

He was tempted to have Ben come over, but… it didn’t feel right. He was too wrecked with guilt and shame with everything that’s happened. And then he didn’t want to be pulling Ben into his problems…again. Or end up using him just to feel good. He’d be lying if he didn’t feel tempted to just fall into Ben for a few fleeting moments of time, but he wasn’t technically the confused guy he was before.

He’d… had time to process things. Especially with a therapist to guide him. Him and Ben… He had to do better.

[Speak to Richie. She’s the best – 3.45pm]

[Leaving Friday. Hope we talk before. – 3.46pm]

[Sorry…still feel like I caused all of this. – 3.46pm]

Callum knew Ben blamed himself no matter how he’d try to explain it.

[Ben, this was all me. It was a long time coming. – 3.46pm]

And something about typing that… made sense to him. He wanted to tell Ben about what Whitney had said today. About Tim, but… it didn’t feel like something he wanted to text. Callum needed some time to process all of this, build all the conversations in his head he needed to have with people and then talk to Ben too. He couldn’t help realizing bitterly, Ben would be miles away from him again. But maybe that was best. For the both of them.

* * *

Ben had been in his room again, texting Callum. He’d just gotten back home from the Gym when he’d realized his messages had been delivered, but not responded to. He remembered how Callum gets when dealing with a situation like this. He shuts himself off, he could also never keep his food down when he got nervous or stressed over something, driving himself to the point of starvation. Ben just felt concerned, so just checked whether he’d eaten. Maybe they could both make a meal out of it. Ben was ready to sit in companionable silence if necessary.

When Callum finally responded though, Ben felt snubbed. Callum seemed to avoid his company either way, and he didn’t want to push himself on anyone, least of all Callum. It was a sudden decision that he’d leave on Friday, but it felt best. He reminded himself to call a travel agent and get it all sorted in a minute. He just felt like he was forcing himself on Callum again, and…he didn’t want to do that.

He just wanted to… He wasn’t sure how to end that statement. He didn’t know how to articulate that feeling deep inside him that at the base of it was, wanting Callum. And the feeling of Callum not wanting him like that, which was its overcoat. Which he felt he deserved. He partially wondered whether he wanted Callum because he couldn’t have him, even after all these years as many people in his life tried to remind him. He’d laughed off the first few times people had thrown that at him. Then one day Callum did it too; that’s when it really hurt.

It had been almost fifteen years since him and Paul were a thing. He took a deep breath as he allowed his fingers to find the scar that now hid where that name used to be on his finger. He didn’t need a ring there anymore. The scar had faded and the welt sunken in. It was a faint remnant, besides the memories. Les & Pam had died years back too. A drop more of guilt fell on this old wound as he remembered him not even knowing they’d died till it was all too late to attend the funeral. He was a country away on a shady deal he couldn’t even remember now. He’d riled himself up a beating at the closest pub to make up for it, in his usual fashion. He surely did know just what to say at those moments. He knew what he deserved, and with a few choice words, he’d only have to not defend himself too well.

Ben’s self-loathing was legendary…everyone constantly telling him it’s not his fault meant nothing. He’d learnt to live with the guilt and settled in to carrying it to the grave. But there were pockets he allowed himself some happiness, like grass flowers growing in gravel. Like Callum. Moments with Callum, stolen from Whitney. He’d have glimpses of salvation…where everything was right in the world for a few seconds, and then Callum would have to leave.

Callum…There was a part of him that wanted this divorce to go through, So, that Callum could finally…be free. To be himself. Not this social construct he seemed to be running after. Sure, he was on his way with Whit when they met. And Ben tried to show him the other side and failed. But now… even with a son, it was… still a bit better. Maybe Callum would find a dashing man, a copper to match. Live an idyllic life, saving the world. Definitely anything but… Ben having a chance at making Callum his, right?

It was no secret. They’d talked about what they meant extensively until Callum would clam up and insist that he wasn’t gay, just unable to… forget Ben, put Ben behind him. Or for Ben to put Callum behind him and just forget him in a sea of kisses and bodies that felt so wrong. The task seemed so daunting at first. When they’d interacted, Callum was clear he was never going to leave her and if any… or every conversation or interaction they had, drove him further up the aisle towards Whitney.

Ben bitterly reminisced about the chance they had when he’d finally pushed Callum to confess to Whitney at her hen party and tell her the truth… but Whitney chose to walk down the aisle with him either way. Even after he tried to convince her against his better judgement.

The idiots the both of them. And now a child in the middle.

Ben couldn’t also help but laugh a little ironically at how often he’d gotten beaten up because of Callum before the wedding and after; By Stuart especially. He hated having to keep his mouth shut the whole time, several times watching as Callum himself was unable to utter the words in complete fear of losing his brother, or let a sliver of the truth about himself or their affair see the light of day. He’d repeated over and over to himself he didn’t need anyone to defend him, but it would’ve meant the world, to know someone had his back.

Callum had been comfortable enough to watch Ben being beaten up several times now, Ben reminded himself. But ignoring that, Ben felt he knew more than anyone else what Callum was going through and cursed himself for overriding the hurtful facts, just to help this man. And he’d wanted nothing more than to be there for Callum, even though almost every attempt led him to steal an intimate moment they quickly would regret. It was his kryptonite, every time he saw the fear and sadness pool in Callum’s eyes, even after the wedding. Probably was even now, wherever he was.

But Ben vowed to move on the last time he’d met Callum. Enough was enough. Clearly, he wasn’t over him, and at the rate his one-sided concern seemed to be growing… they were both safer when Ben was in Australia, texting Callum when he was at his weakest. He had enough time for his goodbyes till Friday. He probably needed to drop in on his dad one last time too. Might as well make it today itself.

* * *

He’d sat in silence in his living room after texting Ben, lost in his thoughts as the empty apartment got dark around him. Whitney seemed adamant on this divorce, going so far as to cast doubt on the one solid thing they had between them: their son.

 _‘Her son…not mine’_ as he was painfully reminded. She seemed so convinced, so he was almost 80% believing these damned reports he had in his inbox right now. He was still getting another test either way. Richie could handle it. He got himself a beer as he mulled over the facts.

Unbelievably, Whitney had slept with someone else at least five years ago. Which also begged the question, was she still with him; Whoever ‘he’ was.

He knew he should be offended. Hurt even. But that wasn’t what motivated him in this rare moment of rage at the Vic; It was the shock of his son possibly not being his that got that rise from him today. How did he not realize it before? There must have been signs, telltale hints, of distance and eyes that couldn’t meet… or at least that’s what it had been like for him at first. Maybe it was like that at first for her too. But she got better at it just like he did. The fact that they were both lying to each other for years now was not lost on him either.

He realized he had no right to be indignant about it. He’d insisted on his hook up with Ben before the wedding to be nothing more than a drunken mistake. No matter how Ben felt about it, or how it had painted him. He had no leg to make a scene about her infidelity for sure. He knew he had no right to give her any indignation from his own past sins… and once currently. How did they get here, he couldn’t fathom.

He had so many questions to the how’s and the why’s, especially the who. The man had to practically be his twin in some ways to result in Tim. Maybe that was the attraction… a substitute that probably delivered everything he couldn’t. And Callum was painfully reminded of their sham of a sex life to begin with, not to mention the many ways he told himself he had to be a better husband that had to have been so… forced.

It felt forced because, he knew how easily it came between him and Ben. The attraction, the sheer magnetism of him wanting to know what’s under that shirt or inside those pants with Ben. At first, he’d told himself it was different between men and women, but the more he spent time with Ben… It became painfully evident that this was what came naturally to him. Only he was now married… and he owed Whitney the perfect marriage through guilt.

He shook his dizzying thoughts away as he realized his beer was now needing a refresh. Or maybe he needed something heavier. He found himself the enigmatic bottle of Vodka Whitney had reached for that fabled night. There was half left, and it felt like a good time as any to be drinking it neat. He took a shot straight from the bottle. Maybe it was two shots to a gulp, he hoped as he gulped it down.

Callum couldn’t put into words the hurt and disappointment he felt knowing Tim might not be his. It just felt like Whitney had robbed him of everything good in his heart. He also realized it was so hypocritical he was feeling that way when he’d done the same to Whitney by cheating on her with Ben, with their affair. He tried to say it was in the past, but Ben had been here just days before.

This web of lies, hurting, cheating had come to its unravelling.

If Whitney wanted this Divorce, she had absolutely every right to ask for it. Even to take Tim from him, even if he was their own flesh and blood. He deserved to be stripped of it all. For all the lies. For all the disappointment and hurt he’d put Whitney through. It was clear now… clear as the vodka he gulped again. She’d deserved better….and she’s somewhat found better. He couldn’t deny it felt like Whitney had given him the perfect method to ending this madness with the least amount of effort. He wondered if Whitney knew that.

He could give Whitney the divorce, finally leave it all behind. Say goodbye to his son and seemingly bitter angry wife…He’d be painfully free, but free from the obligation of a relationship he thought was everything he needed just days before. He wouldn’t need to pretend or to lie… about who he was and what he wanted. Suddenly those years of wanting to please everyone and the years of trying to live up to the expectations of his dearest dead mother, vile father and overbearing brother who thought he could do no wrong… felt like shackles he could finally be rid of.

It put a smile on his face…. Knowing he could be free. Maybe he’d throw himself into work for the moment. Maybe he’d work through his issues without the weight of a family on him. Finally get to being comfortable in his own skin. Maybe allow friends in, find his own family, Maybe even romance. Romance like those stolen moments he and Ben had when it was just them locked away from the view of the world. Only now, openly… with nothing to hide from his family, friends, co-workers, even strangers.

It was something he’d never dared to dream. It definitely felt like a dream. Callum felt he looked dopey as hell, smiling like he probably was right now, drunk as he felt. Maybe this was his opportunity for a clean slate… start over. It was clear women weren’t his thing… even though he’d refused to admit it out loud until now. Until now he was supposedly married. Maybe he could admit it now.

Instead of saying ‘He’s not just a mate…’ maybe he was finally ready to talk about himself. Use his words and tell someone he was…

He took another swig. Why did he never like drinking? It felt amazing. He wondered if this was what Ben felt like every night. He could definitely see the appeal. Hiding behind the perfect life was definitely not working. Maybe he was finally free to… see the other side of this coin, just like Ben encouraged all those years before. 

Ben…he couldn’t have this thought without being drawn back to those momentary fantasies he’d had… with Ben, back in the square. A life together, with Lexi and maybe even a kid of their own. Nights out with their gang of mixed in friends. Whitney as a friend too. Business as usual… him finally being the cook he always dreamed of being.

Did he dream of being a cook? His army mate thought he’d make a great cook.

He’d not thought about Chris in a while. Beautiful Chris. The realization he’d forgotten a bit was another cut over his bruised heart today. Or his sister he’d promised to live a more truthful life to. Chris…and his damned smile. His comfortable silence. Those moments he’d pressed into his side, seated next to him. He wondered what life could have been if he’d been braver. Would Chris not have died from an accident as well. Was Chris another life affected by his fear and indecision?

Was Ben?? 

No better time than now to consider his impact on Ben’s life. Callum had really hoped him & Whitney being out of the picture had really changed things around for Ben. Ben deserved better than stolen moments with him, keeping him from Happiness. He wished he’d kept tabs, but it would have only pulled them back in together. The clean break was the best thing he thought. Once his curiosity got the better of him and he found out Ben wasn’t a resident of the square anymore…he’d rested a little easier assuming he was out there, happier. With someone who’d realize he’s worth the effort, to peel the layers and find the man who needed to be held and told that he was precious.

He remembered those tender moments Ben would melt in his arms. It’ll be seconds or minutes where he forgot to pretend to be the tough mouthy man he projected. The man who craved love and affection more than anyone possibly could give him. Through all the horrible things he’d been through he’d not become a husk of a man yet. Callum had hoped he’d found a man who’d realized all those things. It couldn’t be him.

Could it?

Well… it could be him. Ben and him always had a familiarity he couldn’t deny. With every interaction over the past few days. He could blink, not say a word and they were together. Just between them of course. No one needed to know. He guessed they could now do the same. But their ‘careers’ got in the way for sure, he realized wryly… and found it utterly hilarious how Ben was still wanted by his own department, his own boss. Not to mention how Whitney might just kill him when she finds out. If he… If he wanted Tim back in his life, she’d just be vindictive enough to not allow it, especially if she knew Ben was the one who’d been right here in this apartment, hands around his neck, mouth deliciously on his and...

Callum had to shake some sense back to himself before he slipped off his seat. He tried to make sense of the maelstrom of thoughts in his head, decisions before him… But it was all too much now. He had years to unpack. He figured this was a good moment as any to indulge a little in ‘not thinking’ again. He’d just close his eyes for a moment, just a tiny moment here, on this cool comfortable surface his head rested on.

* * *

Callum had come to, from his stomach twisting in an odd way. Probably from drinking so much on an empty stomach with nothing but breakfast in there. His watch said it was just a little over nine in the night, his back definitely said it was time for bed. He clumsily rubbed his face realizing he was still drunk. His eyes probably shut as soon as he leant his head against the kitchen island.

His stomach did a flip that threatened violence if it wasn’t fed soon. He debated ordered food, but he needed something substantial and homecooked right now. He decided on making something quick and easy for dinner just like he’d mentioned to Ben, but after a shower. A shower and some time to clear his head as water cascaded over his head.

He was still buzzed as he dried himself and found his home clothes. He felt refreshed for a moment and ready to indulge in some cooking himself. It had been awhile since he’d made food himself. That was, until he was coming out of his bathroom door, hoping his dimly lit apartment still held the same warmth it used to when his family lived here.

It didn’t. And it was a cold hard fact! Sobering almost. He switched the tv on to an old game and had a one pot pasta cooking when the apartment bell started ringing incessantly. He was heading for what was left of the vodka, when the thought of a guest made him groan. He hoped it wasn’t Ben… but also, hoped it was…nervously. But then again, Ben would have let himself in Confidently; This was someone else. Today felt like a good day as any to pick up drinking and ignoring whoever decided to ring his doorbell. He hoped it was a rando’ pressing buttons as he passed, but he also felt there was a familiar interval to how it rang now. That’s when the landline rang, and the only one to call the landline was the neighborhood watchdog.

“Callum, there’s a Mr. Stuart Highway here, insisting he’s your brother” The older gentleman from the first-floor apartment said, seeming downright strained, probably by his brother’s presence right at his window. Callum knew all too well how intensely they might be staring at each other even as they spoke. He rubbed his temples not sure why he didn’t expect this in the first place. He’d counted on no company period. But his brother, who he’d promised a conversation had taken initiative. He would have made an amazing beat cop.

He cursed his luck and tried to sound as sober as possible.

“Hi Mr. Hensley. He _is_ my brother, I’ll let him up. Sorry for the bother” He said, reaching for the button near his door. Callum could almost hear his loud booming steps in the carpeted area that lead to his door from the elevator. His head felt very heavy suddenly. He adjusted his white t-shirt, his socks and waited.

“Doors open” He’d said, just as Stuart swung it open with quite a bit of force, and closed it matching the furor. It banged of course. Mildly annoyed and steadily rising to the occasion, he tried avoiding Stuarts eyes, stirring a pot that didn’t need stirring. He tried to look busy with a pasta that’s boiling and the can of meat he’d only just popped in. He’d walked without a word straight up to him across the kitchen island as he cooked. Callum now turned to focus exclusively on the pasta pot.

“What in the name of God have you done now Callum…” Stuart started, clearly annoyed. “When you didn’t answer my calls, I called Bianca for an update and she then told me how you’d tried to choke Whitney at the meeting. Then you’d kicked their bloody door down only to leave as your Wife told you some story about little Timmy not being yours…” He rubbed his eyes laughing a little comically, “I’m a little impressed with that show of force. But that boy looks more like you than you!! Tell me you are not buying any of this crap… someone has to talk some sense into her…” Stuart begged, but stopped suddenly to scrutinize Callum. It was comical the way he’d raised an eyebrow and stared at him.

“What?” Callum couldn’t disagree how he’d looked very much like an Uncle Fester lookalike. He prayed he didn’t decide to laugh right now. Stuart might take his head off.

“Callum, what happened to your face” Stuart said, trying to come closer probably just realizing his altercation yesterday and today was so much more than Callum had led him to believe. Callum was however focused on maintaining their distance, so he moved back and swatted his tree trunk of a hand away.

“It’s … yesterday and a bit of today. Just… leave it alright” Callum said, sweating under all this attention now. Stuart stared for a measuring minute and then continued on with his eyes fixed on Callum.

“What is Whitney playing at. She’s got everything on a platter with you. This is independence talking, you should have never let her work after she’d had Tim. And she’d just… Also she kept saying some nonsense about you and Ben again and honestly… she called me about it before, but I told her…”Callum hadn’t known about that, he was hit by a sudden nervousness and he hoped he didn’t betray anything as he tried to steer the conversation, but his brother was pacing and lecturing.

“Stuart, listen to me. Whit clearly wants a divorce…I thought it was a horrific stunt too, but… it looks… legit.” Callum shared, crossing his arms and focusing on the pan on the stove intently. “Tim’s not mine, apparently. She’d done a DNA test. She had an email from years back. Looks proper. I’m going to ask for another one either way…” It was the logical thing to do, and he was sure about that part. However…

“I wanted Whit and I to work through it. But I think she’s done...”

“That little…” Callum watched as Stuart’s anger bubbled. “How dare she cheat on you! After all the times she accused you, and I had to kick that Arse of a man on your behalf. I’ll set her straight…you guys should sort this out, little Timmy is...” Stuart, clearly had a plan too. Keep the family together. He’d always been their biggest fan; ‘Team Whillum’ he’d called himself. It was downright annoying how he’d been so involved. One of the many positives of moving this far into London was having a healthy distance from him.

“But why…how did this Happen? Why did she even…leave in the middle of the night? I don’t understand Callum. She is being more cryptic than you. What could possibly have happened between the two of you? She said something about a phone call and told me she was done with those…” Stuart was visibly confused, begging him for one fact that made any sense to him. Or the key to understanding all of this clearly.

“Stuart… I don’t know… I tried to tell her it was a work call. There was a part of what I’m working on right now that crossed into dealing with the Mitchells and…” Callum was happy his script was working perfectly. If he kept Stuart out of this and occupied, everyone had room to sort it out sensibly.

“Mitchells… are you seriously…” Stuart started, but then something clicked for him. “IS THIS. BEN … This has bloody Ben Mitchell written all over it. I should have taken care of him like I tried to, does he not understand you’re not interested anymore….” Stuart started. And Callum was just… exhausted. Exhausted with how people just jumped at Ben, when really it was Callum they should be blaming.

“Stuart…” Callum took a strong grip to the bit of counter as he prepared himself to steer this conversation yet again back to him and Whitney. He could give Stuart the pieces he needed for this to make sense. Or at least some new pieces that took him away from the almost undeniable truth people just seemed to refuse to believe. For one, it had extraordinarily little to do with Ben. Well, it had more to do with how he just couldn’t refuse Ben. About how he, felt for Ben.

But there was much more to be said, and…in all fairness, he needed to say it. But the fall out… it could go either way; There was so little he could control and manipulate to his advantage; he’d risk losing everyone in his life right now. His brain raced to figure out a path out of this maze of lies. New possible lies were building just as much as a nervousness he’d known many years back made his insides churn so tightly again. He could tell Stuart… the one thing he refuses to say out loud again, even to himself.

No. He won’t do it. After all, he had it all figured out. He realized he could keep his mouth shut now, Stuart and he will go back and forth about this. With no interference, he’d be able to sell the lie that this was all Whit.

But then Stuart will try to be Switzerland and fix things. If he was calling Bianca when he couldn’t reach him, then there was always going to be the two of them meddling. And it’ll be back to square one with _‘he said-she said’_ situations, and with her insinuations of Ben, and with Ben being here right now… he felt it was a matter of time till someone pinned this on Ben again. He had to keep Ben safe from all of this.

His head hurt from all of this. He’d never know if it was the Vodka, or just the hope this would finally be over if he’d just opened his mouth and said something, he willed himself to start at least.

“Stuart…” He hoped the rest of the truth would follow. He had an out. Only, this out was going to leave him bared in a new way. He was going to tell Stuart the truth not unlike that barely verbal conversation at Pride, all those years ago. The night Stuart beat Ben up in the arches. Was he ready for a smackdown with his own brother? Was he ready to possibly cause more harm to all the people involved? Bianca and Whit seemed comfortable pulling up his past, or his proclivities. They always felt they had the upper hand with how nervous it made him. He’d deflect the insults or the insinuations, but they were always there. Maybe it was finally times to take the power out of it, maybe the first step of defiance and truth.

But what if it didn’t go there. He imagined it for a second. A world without all the lies. It sounded like a fantasy. But very real, and it could be his, five seconds from now. He was damn exhausted with the lies. And lies… It was a decade of lies. He realized he wasn’t even that close to his brother anymore because of these lies. They spoke on the phone occasionally, they met up around holidays and dinners. These lies had built up walls and broken-down bridges that had taken years to mend after his family crumbled. Was he ready to sour things further with the only living Halfway he was close to?

He reached for the bottle of Vodka, ignoring Stuart for a tiny second… taking a good gulp, the last gulp.

“Stuart…” He started again. “You want the truth…” here it was. “Stuart…I cheated on her, with Ben. For almost a year till we left the Square. After we got married…” Callum rubbed his face nervously, just unsure of what exactly he’d just put out into the world, and what it was going to bring back. Callum could almost hear the cogwheels turning in his head as he fixed his eyes on whatever reaction he was going to get from Stuart.

Come what may, he was exhausted with the lies. But his family had an odd way of dealing with news like this. His mind quickly raced to check what things could go flying, what could be broken and used against him. And as he hoped to put some distance between them again, it was at that moment Callum regretted letting Stuart into his apartment. His brother’s face had filled so quickly with rage as he’d reached across the counter grabbing him by the collar, holding him painfully over the stove with escaping steam that was dangerously hot on his face.

“All this time… That innocent girl had come to me asking where you were or what you were doing, and we were all fools. Thinking you were busy with work or having a pint as you said…” He snarled, voice barely above a whisper. “The amount of times I told her she was being crazy for not trusting my little brother, my innocent little brother that loved her so much…” Callum felt his face smart from being this close to the steam. He deserved this righteous indignation from him.

“That’s all true, I love her so much. I…” Callum started, tears back again.

“Callum, people who say they love other people don’t do what you did!!!” Stuart had screamed into his face. He wasn’t sure what to say besides stare at Stuart and try to break his grip from his own collar. He stuttered, but this was his breaking point.

“I don’t know…I don’t even understand what I fought for anymore. When I was with Ben was when…I truly felt myself. When I felt alive… you have no idea. That man, just…”

 _‘That man just sees me for me’_ Callum thought, afraid to say out loud.

“I’M GOING TO KILL THAT NO GOOD PIECE OF GARBAGE. The things I did for you Callum… When will they be enough! I…” Stuart’s indignation stung.

“I didn’t ask you to do anything!” Callum snapped back, finally managing to free himself from his grip. He stood with the cabinets behind him for support as Stuart didn’t seem to be done. He looked ready to break something, and Callum knew he couldn’t stop a man this size all on his own, but he could try, especially when it came to Ben. “AND DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH BEN. HE’S DONE NOTHING WRONG…ITS ME. I KEEP DRAGGING HIM INTO MY OWN…INABILITY TO BE HONEST…WITH MYSELF AND YOU AND WHIT.”

“YOU MADE ME A FOOL CALLUM!” He thundered, as he banged his hammer of a fist on the counter just bursting with rage.

“I was the fool! Thinking I could be happy… coming back. I should’ve died out there. Plenty of chances yet managed to survive by some foul fate. Why couldn’t I just leaving you all be eh…” Callum finally letting himself say something he used to think about quite often. He slid to the floor, finally realizing the day’s emotional toll was now heavy on him. He was finally out of sight from Stuart and his high view of him.

Callum thought about it. Whit would be free; Ben would be free. His brother. Tim… well there wouldn’t be a Tim. But two out of three lives saved the agony, sounds like something he’d willingly die for. He closed his eyes. He just felt bitter and sad. An anguish he hadn’t really felt in years. He finally understood where Ben got a lot of his self-hate and loathing from. They were right brothers in arms in this now, even after all these years.

It felt obscene to cry like this… he was sure the alcohol hadn’t helped, but it felt good to say something truthful out loud. His head felt tired, he brought his knees up and rested on it as the sobs left him. He had only tears now. It had been minutes since anything was said. Stuart had banged his fist a few more times swearing. Callum felt it was a good enough time as any to see what could be salvaged of this forced entry.

“I…. I’m sorry Stuart” he offered weakly, his throat scratching from the Vodka or the screaming match they’d engaged in. “I know you try to help, but I didn’t ask you to get this involved… this is between me and Whit, and I…” He took a steadying breath as he tried to admit something he’d never been able to till today. “It’s my lies, and my fault. I don’t know what to do next Stuart. I’ve…messed it all up. I’ve messed up…and I don’t know how to fix it” And the reality of it all, just came crashing down on him again.

This felt like the proverbial rock bottom.

Callum wiped his face several times, willing himself to stop. His mind just kept going to the many chances he’d had to come clean and save himself all this trouble. Including the unintentional harm he’d be causing Tim along the way now. He wondered what life would’ve been like if he’d just come clean the first chance he got with Whitney at their blind date all those years ago. He’d been living a lie for so long… he doesn’t even remember a true honest moment he’d said what he was feeling like right now.

And that’s when he realized his brother had come around and hugged him.

“I’m sorry Callum. I didn’t mean to…” Stuart had started with, but all Callum could do was nod into his shoulder.

“I know Stuart…” Callum said, finding some strength. It was out now. Stuart knew. Probably not everything like how recently Ben had been in contact. But enough. His shoulders didn’t feel like they were as burdened as he’d been walking into this apartment just this afternoon. He hugged Stuart a little tighter before wiping his nose and switching off the cooker.

“Fancy some pasta?” He asked, cracking a weak smile.

“Always got room for your cooking” Stuart chimed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY OUR BOYS DIDN'T HAVE A SINGLE MOMENT TOGETHER, BUT THEY NEEDED SOME TIME APART TO MAKE SENSE OF THINGS OK. I PROMISE FLUFF AND KILLER BALLUM MOMENTS COMING UP. I was so unsure of this entire interaction with Stuart, but I wanted to build on something Eastenders gave us. Shall we all breathe a sigh of relief for our baby Gay Callum pls! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Tempted as i ever was to write smut and dirty hook ups and the boys having a good time, i thought highlighting all the negative aspects of an affair and it's effects on Ben & Callum could be an interesting mind-space to explore. I'm tempted to ask if you enjoyed it, but...well, i hope you leave a comment to let me know how much you hated the drama.


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